


In-Fernal Union

by Rinkafic



Series: Fernal 'verse [5]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Dragons, M/M, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 07:19:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 50,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinkafic/pseuds/Rinkafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cam Mitchell, allaghi, meets John Sheppard, haima and hijinks, and sex, ensue.  And yeah, dragons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In-Fernal Union

After a brief internal debate, Cam tossed a ham and cheese sandwich onto his tray, followed by a bag of chips and a bottle of water. He glanced around the mess hall, disheartened when he didn’t see any friends in the room. SG-1 had disbanded once again and this time it was probably for keeps. Everyone had moved on to greener pastures, leaving Mitchell behind. A lot of the unfamiliar faces belonged to members of the Atlantis Expedition, at the base for training and orientation. It had taken several months of red tape and meetings, but the city was finally being re-staffed and sent back to Pegasus. 

“Hey, Mitchell.” 

He turned as someone bumped his shoulder and smiled to see the object of his latest obsession standing there, looking hot enough to melt ice. “Sheppard. I guess you’re here for the hand-off.”

Sheppard nodded. “Yup.” 

There was supposed to be an announcement made about the command of the expedition later that afternoon. Months of arguments between the SGC and the IOA had finally culminated in the decision to have a military commander, rather than a civilian led mission this time out. “You really pulled your name out of the hat?” Mitchell asked. He had not had many occasions to talk to Sheppard, usually they were across the room from each other in some meeting or another. But Cam had looked. He liked looking at every opportunity.

With an elegant shrug, Sheppard gave him a half smile and Cam felt his stomach drop and his groin tighten, having that expression directed at him. “I like taking the away missions. You don’t get out much when you’re manning the big desk.”

“True,” Cam agreed. “Join me for lunch?” Mitchell tilted his head towards the tables. 

“Sure.” Sheppard headed off to get a tray while Mitchell went to secure them a table. 

Cam watched Sheppard as he sauntered over to pick out his lunch; there was no other word for it, the man was sauntering. He was in trouble, the attraction he felt for Sheppard, that had started when SG-1 visited Atlantis on a mission had grown to an obsession since Sheppard had turned up at Cheyenne Mountain. Cam didn’t even know if Sheppard swung his way, it wasn’t like he could just ask, either. He rubbed his fingers against his temple and tried to squelch the tightness in his pants. Sheppard was leaving in a few weeks to take Atlantis back to Pegasus, there was no point in complicating matters and risking making a fool of himself by saying anything. 

“They just put out cupcakes, lunch lady says they go quick so I grabbed one for you. You want the vanilla or the chocolate?” Sheppard asked as he sat down across from Cam. 

“Whichever you don’t want is fine, I like both.” 

With a sigh, Sheppard eyed both frosted cupcakes on his tray before putting the chocolate one on the corner of Cam’s tray. After taking a bite of his sandwich he leaned back and looked at Mitchell. “So, I hear your name is in the hat.”

“O’Neill has me on the list, he thinks I need to do something other than SGC paperwork around here. I think he’s concerned for my sanity.”

“I can’t wait to get back to Pegasus. Earth is too... crowded,” Sheppard replied, and Cam wondered what word he had planned to use before he chose crowded. He found himself staring and had to force his gaze down to his tray and pushed the meatballs around on his plate, giving his attention to the food instead. 

“Do you want to go?” Sheppard asked after a long silence.

Cam shrugged. “I’d miss my family. But work isn’t the same since SG-1 broke up again for good. It isn’t like that first time, when you guys left without a definite way back. The _Daedalus_ will come and go, right?” He hadn’t really thought too much about it, like everyone else, Cam had thought Sheppard was a shoo-in for the job, until the rumor mill got hold of the news that he had refused the position. O’Neill had hinted that if Mitchell really wanted the job, it would just take a few words in the right ear to secure it for him. Did he want it?

He jerked upright when Sheppard said, “Deep thoughts there, Mitchell.” 

“What do you like best about it?”

“The quiet. In between the Wraith attacking us, and running for our lives, that is,” Sheppard laughed lightly. “Space is a good buffer, keeps the problems I left behind on Earth, on Earth.”

What would Cam be leaving behind? A job that had gotten boring as hell. A failed relationship, Amy Vanderberg had been willing to forgive him a lot of mistakes from the past, but she hadn’t been able to look past his bisexual nature. That confession had led to everything going down in flames quickly. His team? Scattered to the winds, he only spoke to them by video conference or email these days. That wouldn’t change much, when he thought about it, there would be monthly databursts from Earth if he were stationed on Atlantis.

“You’re considering it, aren’t you?” Cam looked up and almost groaned because Sheppard was licking the frosting off his cupcake. In tiny little sexy licks. 

“The opportunity for a fresh start is kind of enticing,” Cam replied, taking a sip of water. “Leaving my family would be the worst part.”

“Best part for me,” Sheppard said. He reached down and pulled his cellphone from his pocket as it buzzed. Reading the text message, he scowled. “I hate to cut this short, but McKay wants me to sit in the new chair and run some tests.” He popped the remainder of his cupcake in his mouth and stood. “Coffee to go.”

“Good luck with those tests, we need the replacement chair.” Area 51 had been almost a total loss after the attack that had led to Atlantis being on Earth. They had salvaged what they could, and McKay and his team of scientists had cobbled together a new control chair and defense system over the past few months.

Sheppard grinned. “McKay is determined to see it finished before we leave.”

“He’s going then?”

“As of this morning, he wasn’t. But that will change again by dinnertime. I guess we won’t really know until launch. See you later, Mitchell.”

“Yeah, see ya,” Cam said, glancing over his shoulder to watch John dump his tray and take his coffee cup as he left the mess hall. He couldn’t let a stupid crush heavily influence his decision to take a job in another galaxy. That would be stupid, immature and irresponsible.

**~*~**

Chuck had told Cam that Movie Night was a tradition on base that had to be upheld. Apparently, Woolsey had tried to change the night once, and the location numerous times, which had not helped his popularity. The way Chuck had phrased it let Cam know this was serious business that he shouldn’t screw around with.

He had survived his first two weeks as head of the Atlantis Expedition without any drama or major incidents. There had been no sign of the Wraith since their return, for which everyone was grateful. Things were running smoothly. Both McKay and Zelenka had opted to return with them and kept everything on an even keel. McKay was especially pleased that they had not come back into a war zone, claiming that he finally had time to get some real work done, since he didn’t have to constantly be saving all their lives.

He had hoped that he could get over the ‘thing’ he had for Sheppard. If Kate Heightmeyer had been here, he would have gone to talk to her about it, but Kate had been lost on the original expedition. That news of that loss a few years ago had hurt Mitchell personally, she had been a good friend.

“So, what’s the movie tonight?” Cam asked Chuck, his source for all the good gossip, as he wandered into the Control Room after clearing off his desk for the day.

“Creature from the Black Lagoon,” Chuck replied with a grin. “Double feature with Invasion of the Body Snatchers.”

Cam snorted, “Don’t we get enough of that stuff in real life?”

The tech replied, “It’s retro night,” as if that should explain everything. 

After eating his dinner alone in the mess hall, he swung by his quarters to change into jeans, tank top and a flannel shirt his mom had given him for his last birthday. He debated about bringing a snack to the movie, but decided he could do without since he had just eaten. 

The rec hall was about half full when he arrived. He took a seat on the end of a row of chairs and chatted with Doctor Porter and Captain Cadman, sitting in the row in front of him. Just before the lights went down, Sheppard came in, and to Cam’s surprise, didn’t sit with McKay and Zelenka across the way, but rather climbed over a few people to take the empty seat next to Cam.

“Hey,” he said, dropping into the chair.

“Hey,” Cam replied quietly.

Sheppard leaned over and asked in a whisper, “Horror or New Stuff night?”

“Chuck said retro.”

“Cool!” Sheppard grinned and sat back, sprawling out as much as he could in the chair. His shoulder was touching Cam’s, and he debated moving his chair slightly to give them some space. But he didn’t.

Sitting so close together, Sheppard’s aftershave and shampoo were making Cam’s nose twitch. Crap. He wanted Sheppard, he wanted him badly. But he couldn’t make a move, not only because of their positions, but Cam was fernal and relationships with those not of Allos rarely went well. 

Ignoring the splashing monster on the screen, in his head Cam started drafting what he would say in his letter of resignation to General O’Neill, or as his defense at his trial. ‘I couldn’t keep my hands to myself’ sounded like such a lame excuse.

He could see very well in the dark, thanks to his allaghi nature. He watched Sheppard as Sheppard watched the movie. This posting was going to be hell unless he could find a way to get over this infatuation.

**~*~**

John kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, watching the movie. But he couldn’t ignore the surface stuff pouring off Mitchell. Like most humans, Mitchell had no sense of control over his thoughts and never thought to mask his emotions from any fernal that might be around, since they had no idea they might be in the company of people that could pick up on those sort of things. John had noticed Mitchell’s interest back at SGC. He had been surprised and a little flattered by the attention. He was also more than slightly interested himself.

He sensed that Mitchell was distracted by the attraction, fighting it. John was also torn about it. Starting a relationship of any kind with a human was unwise. He’d never bothered trying to start up anything with anyone not of Allos, knowing it couldn’t last and hating the mess that came along with ending an affair. But Mitchell was different, and John found himself on the verge of breaking his own rules and acting on his impulses. Mitchell had his juices flowing, his libido in full gear for the first time in years. If it were clear from the start that it was just sex, nothing permanent, a way to blow off steam, maybe it could work.

Mitchell’s eyes were boring a hole in the side of John’s head, he was staring so intently. By the time the second movie was playing, John had let his knee fall to the side and his leg was now pressed along Mitchell’s. He needed to touch skin. He slid his hand down and brushed his knuckles against the back of Cam’s hand and they both jumped at the touch. John snapped his head around to stare into Mitchell’s face. That little touch had been quite revealing. Mitchell was not what he seemed. John wasn’t certain yet what he was, but he wasn’t all human, he was at least part fernal. And that changed the game.

He leaned over and whispered, “You want to get out of here?”

“Yeah.” Mitchell was out of his chair and moving to the door before John realized he had said yes. He followed after him, blinking at the relatively bright light in the corridor. Surprised, he followed along as Mitchell grasped his wrist and dragged him towards the transporter. 

When they got inside, Mitchell was on him, his hands in John’s hair as he pulled him into a kiss. John was pressed against the doors as Mitchell mauled his mouth. Not that he was complaining, he sighed and relaxed into it. He let his hands slip around Mitchell’s waist and pulled him closer, encouraging him. 

Suddenly, Mitchell was pushing away. He turned to stab a finger at the location closest to his quarters then turned back to Sheppard and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Sorry. This might be a bad idea.”

“It doesn’t need to be,” John replied, basking in the lust pouring off Mitchell, glad that they both seemed to be on the same page. He reached for Mitchell and pulled him close. “Before this goes too much further, I should probably confess something.” He liked to be up front with his partners, to let them know he was haima before they went too far.

“Oh yeah?”

Their conversation was put on hold as the transporter doors opened and they had to exit into the corridor. “Come on, we can talk in my quarters,” Mitchell said. John wondered if Mitchell was even aware that he was dragging John by the wrist behind him as he stormed towards his quarters. This was going to be interesting, it seemed that both of them were rather aggressive. John had usually been the more forceful in his past couplings. This was a new dynamic, and it heightened the expectation.

The door opened and Mitchell shoved him inside, and they were kissing again and all rational thought fled from John’s mind.

**~*~**

“So what’s this big confession? You’re some kind of pervert?” Cam whispered as Sheppard pushed him back against the closed door to his quarters, one hand sliding down between them to rub against the tented front of Cam’s jeans.

Sheppard chuckled hoarsely as he ground against Cam and bent his head to breathe hotly against his neck. “Yeah, but that isn’t what I meant to tell you. That bit is more fun figuring out on your own.” He closed his lips over Cam’s Adam’s apple and sucked lightly before licking and nibbling a path up to his ear. “I want to have sex with you,” John whispered.

With a sigh, Cam tilted his head back and let him have all the access he wanted. He dug his fingers into Sheppard’s shoulders as he dipped his hips and jutted up against the slighter man, bringing their groins together roughly. He probably shouldn’t be doing this with a human, he hoped he could keep himself in check while in the throes of passion and not hurt Sheppard, or worse, accidentally shift forms. What a way to blow his cover and out himself!

Sheppard pulled back slightly and planted both hands on the wall beside Cam’s head. He stared into Cam’s face as he tilted his head and looked at him oddly. Then a smile spread over his face. “Sneaky,” he whispered, then leaned down and licked a stripe over Cam’s throat again. “Very, very sneaky.” 

“How so?” Cam asked, uncertain about the sudden change of mood. 

“Covering up your scent. By the way, your soap tastes dreadful.” John stuck his tongue out and pulled a face. “I still can’t get a decent read, my mouth is full of schmutz.”

“You’re fernal?” Cam blinked in surprise. He leaned close and sniffed at John’s hair. “I don’t get it, I don’t pick up anything from you.” He should be able to, his nose was highly sensitive.

John grinned as he nodded. “I’m masking. Force of habit.” He closed his eyes. When he opened them and looked at Cam again, it was if a window had been opened, he could smell a new earthy, woodsy scent coming from the man in front of him. 

“I don’t know whether I’m relieved or more nervous now,” Cam admitted. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you?” 

Leaning down again, John licked Cam’s throat again, in the same spot. “Only if you tell me, I really can’t figure you out, you taste all mixed up. I taste one thing, but then I get a hint of something else entirely.”

“Allaghi, born of deigma,” Cam admitted.

“Haima, born in Kansas.”

“No shit?”

“No shit, I’m haima.”

“No, I meant about Kansas. Where in Kansas?”

That made John smile. “Seward County, down near the Oklahoma border. In 1907. Town’s gone now, eaten up in the depression by the dust storms.”

“So there’s a coven here, in Atlantis?” Cam asked as John leaned into him and began to shift against him again.

“Nope. Just me.” John pressed his lips to Cam’s throat, sucking on the spot he had been licking earlier. 

Cam moved his hands up John’s shoulders to his neck, stroking lightly with his fingertips. “Maybe we should go slowly. I don’t want to lose it here, hurt you.”

That made John laugh against his skin. “Do your worst, I’m fairly durable.”

“That so? Kinky and durable?”

“Oh, yeah.” John bit him lightly. “Been a while, though. You think you can handle a little pent-up frustration?” His hands were on Cam’s hips as he ground his pelvis against him. Unable to keep quiet, Cam let out a deep groan and threaded his fingers through Sheppard’s dark hair, pulling him closer as he worked over Cam’s throat with lips, tongue and teeth.

He couldn’t let this go on. He had no idea what letting loose would do, he had never found anyone that could stand up to his strength since he had come into his power, he had racked up a few trysts with other allaghi, but none had been completely satisfying. He forced John’s head back, pulling his hair to bring his face up so that he could catch his eye. “I can’t. I don’t trust myself.”

“I really am tougher than I seem, Mitchell.”

Cam pushed him back, shaking his head. “No. I won’t take the risk. Not just for sex.”

Running a hand through his hair in frustration, John dropped the other to his hip and glared. “You need proof? Go ahead, change, I’ll take you on full strength.” 

“You’re certifiable!” 

“No, I’m fucking worked up and horny and you’re hot as hell. I want, Mitchell. Don’t be a tease, what were you expecting when you brought me here?”

Cam shook his head. “I... no. This was just to let off steam, maybe a quick blowjob. I didn’t intend for more, and this is becoming more.” This was temptation. Temptation wrapped up in a pretty, pouting, slouching package.

“You can’t hurt me, Mitchell. Unless you’ve got a sword and intend to take off my head. Besides, we still have to wrestle for who gets to be on top.”

“Stop... I...” Cam pushed at John when he started running his hands up Cam’s arms. 

“Scared? I promise not to take blood. Not my thing. Blood and sex don’t really mix for me.” He gave a shudder of mild revulsion as he said it. 

“I’m not scared of you.”

John cupped his cheek and bit his jaw. “Then c’mon, let’s play. No strings, we can let off that steam, each of us gets what we need. When was the last time you cut loose?”

He never had, that was the problem. He gave a huff of irritation and then groaned as John cupped his rock-hard cock through his jeans and squeezed. “I know you’re still interested. Satisfy my curiosity, I’ve never been with an allaghi before.”

Annoyed that John was swaying him with the sensual assault, Cam gave John a shove backwards. Any other man would have flown backwards, or at least stumbled from the force Cam put behind it, Sheppard merely took a step back. That gave Cam pause, and kept him from opening the door and tossing Sheppard out, as he had been planning to do. 

“You wanna play rough?” Sheppard smirked and grasped Cam’s wrists, jerking him forward and taking his mouth in a hard kiss. Their first kiss, hardly romantic, turned into a contest of strength and will as they silently fought for dominance. 

Mitchell shoved at Sheppard, forcing him back step by step to the bed and toppling him backwards onto it. He followed, pinning him there, one knee pressed tightly between John’s legs, intimately wedged against his crotch. Thinking to give Sheppard a taste of what he was asking for, he twisted out of John’s grip, snapping his hands around and imprisoning John’s wrists, slamming them down onto the bed over his head. He growled as he pressed in and nipped at John’s throat. 

“Wolf kin?” John asked, turning his head and letting Cam bite his ear. 

“No.”

Sheppard shimmied his hips slightly, rubbing against Cam. “Bear kin?”

“Nope.” Cam bit him again, sucking on the spot when John writhed against him and sighed in response. He’d found a Spot. He made a mental note of it, intending to come back there.

Seemingly unconcerned about being pinned to the mattress, Sheppard kept guessing, though his voice had gone husky. “Not reptilian, are you? That might be a deal breaker. I hate snakes.”

It was Cam’s turn to laugh. “No. Promise. No scales, or fins, or feathers.”

“Take the fun out of guessing, why don’t you?” Sheppard complained mildly, without any heat. Releasing one of John’s wrists, Cam slid a hand down to rub over his chest and stomach. “Rat kin?”

“Bigger.”

“Elephant?” Sheppard gasped as Cam’s wandering hand cupped his heated balls through his khakis. 

“Smaller.” 

“Wildebeest!” 

“Now you’re just being silly.” Cam growled, nipping at Sheppard’s throat.

John had managed to kick off his shoes and was running a foot up and down Cam’s calf and thigh. CAm purred in response. “Hhhm, now that’s telling. Cat kin.”

“Yup, you got it.” In response, John slid his free hand down and touched his fingers to Cam’s ear. “If you rub behind my ears, I will bite you, unpleasantly.”

Sheppard waggled his finger near Cam’s nose. “Bad kitty.”

“Fuck that. I am not a kitty.” Mitchell pushed up on his hands and glared down at Sheppard.

“You gonna switch? I’m curious, but not sure how curious.” John’s smile dimmed a little and he seemed nervous.

He shook his head. “I’d rather not. I like skin. In fact, I want you out of these clothes, I want skin.”

“You too. Strip.” 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Cam said as he climbed off Sheppard and began undoing the buttons of his flannel shirt. 

Kneeling on the bed behind him, Sheppard slapped his shoulder. “Stop overthinking it. We’re just burning off steam.”

He nodded and let the shirt drop to the floor, then took his tank top off over his head. He was startled when Sheppard’s hands grasped his belt, undoing it. “Not fast enough,” John breathed in his ear. 

"Whoa,hey!" Cam exclaimed, bending forward as John's hands tickled at his bare middle. "I can do my own belt, Sheppard."

"I can help." Firm hands clasped Cam's hips and turned him around before he could push them away or protest about the manhandling. "I want to help," John said huskily. His fingers were under Cam's belt and undoing the clasp, leaving Cam with nothing to do with his hands. He reached forward and clasped John's shoulders, digging his nails in slightly as Sheppard's knuckles brushed against the bare skin of his abdomen under the waistband of his shorts. 

Sheppard tossed the belt aside and slowly undid each button of the fly, fingers caressing the denim. His eyes were on Cam's as he went, his pupils slightly dilated, the only sign of excitement he was giving off. Damn him for his calm. Mitchell felt an overwhelming urge to push him over and crawl back atop him. 

After pushing the jeans down off Cam's hips, John let his hands fall to his sides, palms up and open as he knelt atop the blanket. Shit. He had John Sheppard naked on his bed. How often since meeting the man had he imagined something like this, and now it was actually happening? He really wanted to shove him over and take him. 

"Do it," Sheppard whispered with a smirk, leaning up on his elbows.

Confused, Cam slid his hands down Sheppard's bare arms. "Do what?"

In response, John fell back onto the bed, sprawling out and grinning up at him with a sultry look in his eyes. "Exactly what you're thinking about. You're thinking so loud and so hard that I can't help but read it. You're an open book, Mitchell." 

"Shit, you can read my mind?" 

"Not really. Just the surface thoughts, when they're strong. And right now, yours are coming through a bullhorn, buddy."

Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, Cam gave a grunt. "That's why you came on to me in the rec hall?"

"I couldn't help it. You were staring at me through the whole movie. You were making me jumpy. And, well, your surface thoughts happened to coincide precisely with MY surface thoughts, so I took the opportunity to get things rolling along."

Cam pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You jumped me!"

"You liked it. And then you dragged me here. Hey, why are we still talking?"

Cam blinked and stared up the long length of John's nude body. He licked his lips. "I have no idea." When John beckoned with his hand, holding it out to him, Cam took it and climbed onto the bed, settling himself partially over Sheppard, skin touching in various places from ankle to chest. 

Sighing, John cupped a hand to the back of Cam's head and pulled him in for a kiss. Their tongues touched and the kiss grew deep and heated, quickly they found themselves back at the point they had been at in the corridor outside the rec hall when this whole mad mutual seduction had begun.

Hands roved over naked flesh, palms smoothing, fingers pinching lightly here and there. Cam rocked forward until his cock was nestled in the indentation of John's hip, pressing against warm flesh as he held John and kissed him. John's hands were in his hair, tugging him forward, trying to deepen the kiss even further, if that was even possible; John's tongue was running over Cam's back teeth. 

John shifted, bucking against him, rolling his hips and rubbing his erection against Cam's belly. One hand moved down to clamp onto Cam's hip, holding him tightly as John ground against him. Pushing back and away suddenly, John stared into Cam's eyes as Cam panted for breath. "Too long," he whispered, then moved back for more kissing. He wasn't even winded. "Been too long." 

"How..." Cam tilted his head back as John took the hint and turned his attention to Cam's throat instead of his mouth. "How far did you intend to take this, Sheppard?"

"As far as you want to. In case you hadn't noticed, I put out on the first date." 

"Is this a date? I thought this was just..." 

Sheppard laughed into the crook of his neck. "Maybe. Maybe not." 

Cam reached down and grabbed John's hips, and rolled onto his back, bringing John with him and settling him so that their cocks were completely mashed together. "So, uhm, I don't have any condoms, but I'm clean, I swear."

"Me too." With the invasive exams they put everyone through before they let the city leave the Milky Way, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to get past Medical if they were carrying something. And then there was Beckett, with his endless followup exams.

Letting out a little whimper as John bit him on the shoulder, Cam kneaded his thumbs into John's backside. "I... you can... if you want..." Cam mumbled, feeling his cheeks heating up in what was certainly a blush. This was happening pretty damned fast. It was the first time he'd ever ended up in bed with someone without there being a clear cut indication of what the preferences of both parties were. He should be able to articulate his meaning without blushing like a schoolgirl. He had not intended to end up in bed at all, so the fact that this was moving so rapidly was a bit of a shock and had him off kilter. 

"Nah, next time. It's been too long, I wanna be on the bottom now." 

"Oh, thank God!" Cam exclaimed, grasping John's face and pulling him in to kiss him. 

John was grinning when he pulled his face away. "So, don't hold back." Sheppard had reached down between them and had a hand wrapped around Cam's cock and was stroking him, ending each stroke with a slight twist and rub over the sensitive head with his palm. 

"I won't last long if you keep that up," Cam warned, bucking up into John's hand. 

"I was hoping you'd say something like that. I want you inside me already." John breathed near his ear.

Rolling to the side of the bed that had the night table beside it, Cam reached over and fumbled around until he found the bottle of hand lotion he knew was there. It would have to do for lube tonight, he hadn't exactly been prepared for company. He depressed the pump and got a handful, which he quickly slicked over his throbbing cock. After getting another glop into his hand, he rolled back towards Sheppard, laughing aloud when he found him on his belly, thighs spread, butt slightly raised, waiting expectantly for him.

"You weren't kidding about wanting it," Cam said with a smile as he worked some of the lotion down John's crack. John spread his legs further and sighed contentedly as Cam touched a fingertip to his hole and then slipped it inside. John needed the lubrication, his ass was pretty damned tight. 

"Nope, not joking. Use two fingers."

Cam obliged, turning his hand and moving his fingers in and out as John began to grind down onto the mattress and moan as Cam massaged his insides with two fingertips and then three. "Feel good?"

"Your fucking cock would feel better, hurry the hell up!" 

Rubbing the remaining lotion over John's ass, Cam moved over him and pressed the tip of his cock into place, finding it a little more difficult to breach than it had been with his fingers. "You're tight as hell," he complained when he found it hard to push inside. 

John's response was to lurch up and backwards suddenly, impaling himself on the tip of Cam's cock as it was forced in. Both men let out equally loud groans. "Sheppard!" Cam slapped his thigh. "What the hell?"

"Move, Mitchell." 

"Demanding son of a bitch, aren't you?"

John was completely unapologetic as he replied, "Get used to it. Now, fuck me, or I swear, I'll flip us over and I'll ride you hard."

Sheppard had asked for it, literally and repeatedly. So Cam let him have it. He stopped holding back and began to thrust into Sheppard's ass, hard. Sheppard began to swear quietly, urging Cam on with a series of, "Oh yeahs, that's its, harders, and just like thats." He had reached up and grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and was holding it clutched tightly to his chest as Cam pounded at his ass, rocking the bed with every forward movement.

Mitchell held onto his slim hips, forcing him back to meet each punishing thrust as he drew all the way out and then shoved all the way back in to the root of his cock each time. This might not be what Cam had planned for the evening but it was turning out to be exactly what he had needed. He reached around, pushed John's hand aside, grasped Sheppard's rigid cock in his hand and began to stroke him in time with his thrusts. John got even louder after that, alternately cursing Cam out and begging him to give him more. This was certainly a side of Sheppard he would never have expected. The normally laid back head of the military was loud, demanding and greedy in the sack.

He felt a sudden wash of heat come over him and his skin began to tingle. "Oh, fuck. Not now," he whispered fervently as he held still over John's back, one arm wrapped around his stomach, the other across his back with his hand clasped to John's shoulder. 

Either hearing his words or sensing Cam's rising panic, Sheppard tensed and stopped moving under him. "What's the matter?"

Cam pulled out quickly and flopped down onto the bed beside Sheppard, curling on his side and breathing heavily. "Change. Coming fast. Too fast." 

Rather than pulling away or leaving the bed as Cam expected, John moved closer, his hands moving over Cam's face, neck and shoulder. "Take deep breaths. Focus on staying in human form."

"Ruining things, sorry," Cam whispered. 

John rubbed his hip. "Don't be sorry, just try to calm yourself. Focus."

It was too much. He felt the heat again. He was going to shift. He curled in on himself, grunting in pain as he tried to hold it off. "Can't. Too late. Gonna shift."

With a sigh, John patted his hip. "Then stop fighting it. Let it happen."

"Not like this. I'm still..." he waved a hand at his hard cock.

"I swear, you aren't gonna hurt me, Mitchell. Let go. We'll deal with it."

He writhed on the bed as he gave in and let the shift happen. He felt the muscles popping, his bones expanding, the fur coming in over various parts of his body. It had been well over a year since he had last changed form. It hurt, in the way of muscles gone soft without constant exercise, suddenly being forced to work. He threw back his head and roared with the pain of it. 

Eventually, it was done and he was in his other form. Unlike most allaghi, he refused to consider this true form. He had always been human, and human was his true form. This was other. He held his arms up, and saw the muscles rippling under the golden fur as he clenched his hands. He sheathed the claws that had come in fully extended with the shift. 

He could smell Sheppard now, clearly haima, now that he had the full use of his feline nose. He turned his head and saw John standing beside the bed. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was staring at him. "Hey big guy," John said after a few moments. "How ya doing?"

Shit, he was still as hard as a rock and pumped full of hormones. "Still horny," he replied honestly. 

"So I can see. Lion, huh? Pretty fucking impressive, Mitchell." John circled the bed and climbed up beside him. He reached a hand up and stroked Cam's shaggy mane, tailing his fingers down to touch the skin on his throat. 

Cam leaned into the touch, rubbing his face against Sheppard's hand, unconsciously scenting on him. "You smell so fucking good," Cam grumbled.

"Yeah, well, the pheromones are still flying." John went up on his knees and clasped Cam's head in his hands, pulling him down and tentatively touching their lips together. 

Clenching his hands tightly at his sides, Cam was afraid to touch Sheppard, afraid of hurting him, despite the haima's assertions that he would be fine. 

"You won't, damn it. I've been dropped from 500 feet off the back of a fucking dragon and didn't even get bruised. I'll be fine, Mitchell!" John punched his shoulder, now more muscular under the thin coat of golden fur.

"You what? Dragon?"

Sheppard pushed at him until he rolled over onto his back and then straddled Cam's hips. "Dragon, yes. I'll explain later. Where were we?"

"You can't possibly expect to... SHEPPARD!" Cam exclaimed as Sheppard shifted his hips and pressed back, taking Cam's rigid cock back into his body. He put his hands on Sheppard's hips, which now seemed even narrower to him. 

"Damn!" Sheppard exclaimed, his head falling back as he wriggled until Cam was fully embedded within him. "Your cock got bigger."

Any protest Cam might have had was cut off as Sheppard began to move on him, making good his earlier promise to take control and ride him. Cam closed his eyes and rolled with it, holding onto Sheppard's hips and bucking up when he heard Sheppard resume his earlier happy sex sounds. Apparently, he had not been lying, Cam wasn't hurting him.

He opened his eyes to watch John, and was glad that he did. He was beautiful like this; lost in passion. His head was thrown back so that the entire length of his throat was open and facing Cam. He had his fingers threaded through the fur on Cam's chest, bracing himself as he rose up and bounced back down on Cam. His back was arched. His lines were gorgeous. Cam wished he had a camera to capture the image of him like this, but he was certain it would remain ingrained in his memory. 

John reached down and grasped Cam's hand, guiding it up to clasp his cock. "Please," he rasped, and Cam couldn't refuse him. He held lightly but firmly, stroking John, trying to mimic the way John had been touching him earlier. It seemed to please him, John began to babble incoherently as he stopped bouncing and began to rock slowly back and forth with Cam embedded deeply within his ass. 

Feeling the buildup as he reached his peak, Cam warned John, "I'm close."

"Me too," John replied. "You okay like this or do you want to change positions?"

"I'm good if you are, this is good."

John looked down at him and smiled. "This is fine, I like it this way. Keep doing that," he gasped as Cam jerked on his cock and bucked up at the same time. 

"You're so damned tight," Cam whispered. "You feel good." He thrust upwards again as he felt the pressure and clench and then released up into John, letting out a low roar as he did.

"Fuck, that is so hot," John said. He was holding still as Cam made a few last thrusts up into him, his cock tightly clenched in Cam's fist. When Cam stopped moving, John rocked forward to remind him he was holding him and that John still hadn't come. Sheepishly, Cam glanced down and then began to stoke John. As he began to spill over Cam's hand, John shuddered and fell forward. Bringing his free arm up over John's back, Cam held him as he came, stroking his back lightly before he clutched the back of John's neck and held him still, their bodies pressed tightly together as John remained straddling his hips.

For the first time all evening, John was breathing heavily as he lay collapsed over Cam, his body trembling slightly. "You okay?" Cam asked after a while. 

"Oh, yeah," John replied, turning his head to rest his cheek on Cam's chest as he idly scratched his nails over Cam's arm and chest. He smiled up at Cam suddenly. "I'm very glad you're more human than cat." 

"How so?"

John tugged on the fur at the nape of Cam's neck. "Well, don't cats have barbs on their...?"

"Oh, that, yeah," Cam interrupted. "Me too."

"Yeah, you're just bigger this way, is all. And fuzzier. Warmer. Smell good too." John stretched out then wrapped his arms around Cam, snuggling down. “Nice Kitty.”

Not quite certain of the proprieties of the situation, Cam continued to stroke John's back lightly with one hand as he rubbed his fingers into John's scalp with the other. "Uhm, Sheppard, do you want to stay?" he asked when Sheppard seemed to be drifting off to sleep.

"Mmmm hhmm. Warm," John mumbled. "Comfy." 

Cam pushed Sheppard off carefully, picking up the discarded blanket that had been on the floor and draping it over him as he got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He washed up and then took a warm washcloth into the bedroom and cleaned Sheppard up as best he could as Sheppard was out cold and not of the slightest bit of help with the matter. 

Knowing he would be uncomfortable trying to sleep in this form, Cam forced himself to change back to human. It left him shaking with residual soreness and chilled after the rapid change of body mass and loss of fur. He grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and joined Sheppard in the bed again. He sighed as John shifted over and curled around him, spooning up to his back without seeming to wake up at all. 

Just how had his potential quicky blowjob turned into a major cuddlefest and sleepover?

**~*~**

Without an alarm to rouse him, John woke slowly, though it was still just about dawn, judging by the light as well as his internal clock. As he stretched, his foot bumped warm skin. Memory came flooding back. He was spooned up against Mitchell's chest, with a heavy arm pressed across his belly, holding him. He could feel Cam's warm breath on his neck.

What in the hell had possessed him to act so rashly on that spark of infatuation he had picked up from Mitchell? His commanding officer! Shit. Remembering how wanton he had been the previous night, how pushy and demanding, John immediately began to regret his impulsiveness. He had been bored - and horny - a combination that always seemed to get him into trouble. 

He looked down at Mitchell's hairy arm wrapped around his middle. A decidedly less furry arm now than it had been the night before when John had fallen asleep. Mitchell had changed back to human form at some point. John wondered if it had been deliberate. Despite his words to the contrary, Mitchell's shift into lion form had spooked John a bit. Mitchell had been quite a bit bigger than John had anticipated. He had to be well over seven feet tall in his other form. And all those muscles! If he hadn't been so over the edge with lust and their unfinished tryst, John might have bowed out. Mitchell was more than slightly intimidating in his allaghi form. An enraged and out of control allaghi was capable of ripping even a haima to shreds. 

He was glad he had stayed. Not only because the sex had been really, really hot, but because for the first time in years, John had been able to let loose. He knew Mitchell had been nervous about hurting him, but the truth of the matter was that John had been just as equally nervous for the same reason. He was much, much stronger than he appeared. His haima nature was deceptive. He could easily overpower a human without breaking a sweat. He had to restrain himself at all times, even with most of the allaghi on the base. The only one he could truly spar with was Ronon, because Ronon wasn't human anymore, he was a stelly, what they called athanata back home. He couldn't be killed by normal means, his body would always regenerate, so long as his head was still attached. 

But Mitchell had been able to match him, John had let go and given in to his passions and they were both seemingly unscathed. Granted, John's ass was actually sore even several hours after their joining. Mitchell's other form had almost been too much for him. Almost. 

What to do now? They'd both be in hot water for breaking regulations about a relationship within one's own chain of command, if someone at the SGC decided to make a stink about it. So long as they were out here in Pegasus, it would be okay. He had thought Cam was human. He wondered if the other allaghi on the base knew about him. Was Mitchell being protected by the city's cartel or the Fernal Branch? While John had no protection at all from the Fernal Branch of the military, he did have the base's cartel watching over him, thanks to his status as Stackhouse's Rider. The allaghi on the base only knew that Stackhouse wanted John protected, and that was all it had taken. Allaghi did not question the why of an order from their leader. 

"Quit thinking so loud," Cam mumbled, tightening his grip on John's waist as he shifted on the bed beside him. "You woke me up."

"I did not. You had to pee, that's why you woke up."

With an unhappy noise, Cam released his hold and rolled away. "Damn mind reader."

"Easy pickings," John called as the bathroom door shut behind Mitchell. Should he leave now, before Mitchell came back? The problem was, he didn't really want to. He liked Mitchell, he had even before the whole pouncing at the movie thing. Since Mitchell had taken command of the expedition, John had found him to be easy to get along with, friendly, and interesting to talk to. Their common background serving with the SGC had given them plenty to talk about. John had never expected to end up in bed with the man, however, so this was a completely new wrinkle.

He really wanted to stay. For once, he went against habit and he didn't bolt at the first opportunity to do so. He rolled onto his back and straightened out the sheets and blankets and smiled up at Mitchell when he came out of the bathroom. 

"Wasn't sure you'd stay," Mitchell remarked as he dropped back onto the bed and got back under the covers. 

"I wasn't sure that I would either," John admitted cautiously.

"Why did you?" Mitchell turned onto his side to face John, curling one arm up to pillow under his head. The sight made John lick his lips as he stared into Mitchell's dark blue eyes. He had long eyelashes for a guy. 

Giving a loose shrug, John replied, "I'm not entirely sure. You're different."

"So are you."

His curiosity roused by his earlier line of thought, John ventured a question. "I really thought you were human, Mitchell. Does the cartel know about you?"

Mitchell shook his head. "No. Not that I'm aware of. I know who they are, I had a report, sent to me by someone from the Fernal Branch to keep me in the loop."

"Sent? Couldn't you just requisition it?" 

Under the blanket, Mitchell's hand moved up onto John's bare hip. "Hardly. I'm regular military, not Fernal Branch. My dad had connections in the Fernal Branch, they keep an eye out for me and occasionally do me a favor."

"You aren't Fernal Branch? How did you manage that?" John knew that he was an oddball, managing to maintain a military career outside the reach of the Fernal Branch, it surprised him that Mitchell did not report directly to them.

"I was dormant until the Antarctica battle. I only went active because of the injuries I got when I crashed. I went into the battle human and came out allaghi." 

John nodded, he had read Mitchell's file, he knew about the crash and Mitchell's time with SG-1. Dormant traits would explain how a lion kin allaghi had managed to stay off the radar this long. John's road had been harder, trying to ditch the Fernal Branch deliberately to try to lead a 'normal' life without their interference.

"So you don't answer to Stackhouse?"

Mitchell grinned. "I don't answer to anyone. Hey, do you know what kin he is? It isn't in his records."

"I do, but that is his secret to tell." John sighed as Mitchell's hand moved and he caressed John's abdomen with his knuckles, in teasing, widening circles that moved closer and closer to his groin. "Why, Colonel Mitchell, are you making moves on me this morning?"

With a grin, Mitchell leaned against him and opened his hand, spreading his palm over John's soft cock, having an immediate affect on that state. "We're both off duty today. Would such moves be appreciated or rejected?"

In answer, John leaned in and kissed Cam's soft lips. It was a sleepy, lazy good morning kiss, the kind of thing John was quite unaccustomed to. It felt good. It felt right. He sighed and relaxed as Mitchell pulled him into his arms and deepened the kiss. 

"Nice way to start the day," Cam whispered, dragging his lips across John's cheek to mouth at his earlobe. John gave a shiver and practically melted as Mitchell attended the sensitive skin at his ear as he also caressed John's back and ass. 

Eventually, John woke up fully and started being a bit less pliant and yielding. He began kissing Mitchell back forcefully. And then teeth got involved and soon he was biting Mitchell's nipple between his teeth, rolling it there as Cam squirmed under him. In an echo of the previous night, John ended up straddling Cam's hips, rocking back against his cock, which bounced against his backside. 

"My turn," Cam protested, grasping John's hips and pulling him forward a bit. "Before you go getting any ideas."

"Oh, I have ideas. I have lots of ideas," John assured him. He pulled Cam's hands away and slid down, parting Cam's knees and nestling between them. He took Cam's cock in hand and began to stroke him. "I'll start with this one."

"I like this one," Cam replied on a sigh, throwing his hands back behind his head to hug the pillow as he watched John in the early morning light coming from the balcony doors.

John moved forward, his lips mere inches from Cam's shaft as he held it in his hand. He suddenly looked up at Cam. "Or, you know, we could play Parcheesi."

Blinking in disbelief, Cam replied, "We could what?"

"Play Parcheesi. You know, a few good games, get to know each other better." John smiled up at him. "We could make it strip Parcheesi, if you have a mind to."

"I believe we have gone far beyond strip Parcheesi, Sheppard. We're already naked. I’m hard as a rock."

"True."

"I think we should shelve that for another time."

John gave a small pout with his lower lip, wondering if Mitchell would see straight through it. "So, no Parcheesi?" 

"Maybe after we're done with this, huh?" Cam said, tipping his chin towards the cock pulsing heatedly in Sheppard's grip.

"How about reverse strip Parcheesi?" Sheppard ventured.

Cam frowned. "No Parcheesi. No Monopoly. No chess. And no fucking tiddly winks!"

"I just wanted to be certain that you were committed to this particular course of action," Sheppard replied with a smirk. He began to slowly move his hand up and down Cam's shaft. 

"That's better," Mitchell grunted as he settled back against the pillow. “Tease.”

With a smile, John leaned in and wrapped his lips around the base of Cam's cock, sucking at one spot for a time before moving slightly upwards. The silky, soft skin that moved over the rigid core beneath tasted slightly salty. This was a risky move on his part, his haima nature was asserting itself and he knew that he was dangerously close to a pulse point, a blood point. He nose tingled with the scents he was getting. He felt an urge, a need, to let his fangs down and bite, to claim. But he had better control than that. He skirted the edge of his need, letting it add to the excitement of the moment. It was enriching the sensual experience for him. If he wanted to play safe and boring, he wouldn't give blow jobs.

He felt Cam's hand on his head, tangled in his hair. Softly, Cam's voice urged him to continue as he took the head of the cock into his mouth and began to suckle greedily, noisily. Cam's pelvis came off the bed and he lightly thrust up into John's mouth a few times. Letting his hands drift down Cam's sides to his hips, he grasped them tightly and started to move him in time with the movements he began to make with his head as he took more of Cam into his mouth, pushing further down the shaft. 

As a haima, he didn't need to breathe as often as a human. He could hold his breath for several minutes at a time when necessary. The trick with what he was doing was not to let his throat constrict prematurely, to consciously override his natural inclination to gag.

"Oh, fuck, John!" Cam exclaimed loudly, both hands tangled in John's hair now, though he was not trying to affect John's movement at this point. He was letting John go at his own pace as he took Cam's full length into his mouth and throat. 

Carefully, John began to tense his throat muscles around the head of Cam's cock, slowly pulling off and then moving back again. The muscles under John's hands were tense, Cam was holding himself in check with great effort, which John appreciated as he worked him. He pulled back off almost all the way, until just the head of Cam's dick was in his mouth. He licked him and sucked him quickly before he took the whole of Cam's length into his mouth again. He could hear Cam babbling and he smiled around the mouthful of cock he had between his lips. 

He bobbed up and down, Cam's cock head in his throat as he fucked him with his mouth. He felt Cam tensing under him and then felt the spray of Cam's release hit his throat. He had to back off a bit so that he could swallow. He sucked on the tip, milking every last drop of Cam's essence out and swallowing it down before he finally pulled off. 

"Oh, my, God," Cam said when John looked up at him. "No one has ever... that was... come up here." 

John crawled up and into Cam's arms, kissing him as Cam held him tightly. "I guess you liked that?"

Cam tightened his arms around John. "Oh, hell yeah!"

"I liked doing it for you." He was sprawled out over Cam's body, gyrating his hips ever so slightly.

Reaching down, Cam stroked John's rigid cock. "There's lotion on the nightstand, if you want to take care of this," Cam said huskily.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I like it either way. I think I've got a handle on the changeover now. I was able to keep it in check just now without too big a problem."

"I noticed. Thanks for that, I probably wouldn't have been able to handle you in your other form."

John had to move off Cam to get to the nightstand. He found the lotion easily enough and spread it over himself. When Cam started to roll over, John stopped him by grabbing his arm. "Can you stay on your back? I want to watch you."

"Sure." Cam smiled and relaxed against the pillows, in the same position he had been in earlier when John had been blowing him. Taking the bottle of lotion with him, John settled between Cam's knees again. He nudged his thighs apart. Cam raised one leg and dropped an ankle on John's shoulder. "Use a lot, John. I haven't had anyone touch me there in ages."

"How long is ages?" John asked as he tried to wedge a finger into Cam's ass and had difficulty doing so. 

With a sheepish grin, Cam shrugged. "Uhm, other than having a doctor check me over with a finger, probably ten years."

John squirted extra goop on his finger. It took a lot of lotion and wriggling, but he eventually worked a finger inside and was able to move it about with Mitchell grunting and sighing and urging him on. He pushed and prodded until he could get to Cam's prostate, which he teased mercilessly. He enjoyed the way Cam was writhing and whimpering for more on the mattress. Adding a second finger had Cam groaning and whining, a third finger had him begging John to stop teasing with his fingers and put his cock in.

He pulled his hand out and slicked more lotion over his cock before pushing Cam's thighs further apart and settling between them. Cam still had one leg thrown over John's shoulder. His eyes were on John as John lined up and pushed forward. 

"Oh, yeah, that's it," Cam breathed, his eyes locking onto John's as he winced in pleasure-pain with the intrusion. 

Warm tightness encased him as he slid inside Cam's body. He had done this before, with plenty of other partners. So why was this time different? Why had he asked Cam to stay on his back while he took him? John had never requested that before of any other lover. He always preferred fast, unemotional couplings. So why was he maintaining eye contact as he claimed Cam's body like this? Leaning heavily on his knuckles for support, John pushed in until Cam had taken his whole length. Eyes closed, Mitchell was panting, his teeth clenched tightly together as John finished shoving his way in. 

John rubbed the knee that was beside his ear. "Hey, you okay there?"

Opening his eyes to look at John again, Cam replied tensely, "Yeah, just gimmee a minute to adjust before you start moving again, huh?" 

"Sure. Maybe if you put this down..." John lifted Cam's leg but as soon as he started to move it, Cam whimpered and bit down on his lip. "... or not." John left the leg where it was. He grabbed for the lotion, squirted a dollop onto his finger, and spread some more on the skin stretched tightly around his cock. 

He felt Cam relaxing incrementally until he finally said, "I'm good now. Move, Sheppard, please."

Slowly, John began to pull out. Cam moaned a lot when he pushed back in again, but soon the sounds were less of distress and more of pleasure. Raising his other leg, Cam draped it over John's shoulder, crossing his ankles behind John's head. The new angle was a bit different for John, Cam's hips were off the bed as John plowed down into him with a slight jerking motion. He wrapped his arms around Cam's calves and held on for leverage as he twisted his hips and moved in and out of Cam's body. 

Cam tightened his legs and pulled, getting John's attention after a while. "Hey, I need to change position," he said.

Smiling, John leg go of his legs, which Cam pulled down, wincing. "You've got some stamina, Sheppard. Damn." 

"Haima. Sorry?" John pulled out with a lewd pop as Cam lowered his hips to the bed. He felt a bit sluggish and dopey.

"Don't be sorry, I just didn't expect to still be going this long." 

The pheromones were thick in the air, distracting him, making it hard to concentrate. John shook his head, trying to clear away the sex-fog. "Do you need to stop?"

Cam shook his head and rolled onto one side. "Nah, all good. Just need to move a bit. C'mon back."

Stretching out behind him, John grasped Cam's hip and held him still when he would have rolled onto his belly. "Stay," he commanded softly. He slid up until he was pressed against Cam's back. Grasping his blazing hot cock, he reached down with the other hand to spread Cam's ass cheeks. Cam drew one knee forward, allowing John much better access. Leaning forward, guiding his cock into place, with a few wriggles of his hips, John was sliding back into Cam's receiving warmth. 

"Oh, God," Cam whispered. He had his head propped on his right arm, his hand in the air. His left hand was fisted tightly, clutching the sheet beside him as John thrust into him forcefully. John reached up with his own right hand and intertwined their fingers, while he let the left rest on Cam's hip, pushing and pulling on him lightly, rocking him in time to his thrusts.

"So tight," John said near Cam's ear as he rocked into him. "You feel good."

Cam deliberately clenched around him, forcing a gasp from John. "Touch me, John," Cam begged, releasing his hold on the sheet to flail up to catch hold of the hand John had on his hip and guide it to his rigid cock. Heat met John's hand as he began to stroke Cam, trying to match his up-pull with his thrusts. 

"Ready to go again, huh?" John grunted as Cam's cock grew harder in his hand.

"Good fernal genes," Cam panted, pushing back to meet John's next thrust. 

Not satisfied with the leverage he was getting curled around Cam like he was, he drew out and released his hold on Cam's shaft, which made Cam literally mewl in disappointment. 

John chuckled. "Don't go getting your whiskers in a twist, I'm not through with you yet." He leaned down and nipped at Cam's bare butt cheek, then gave him a slap. "Up on your hands and knees."

Quickly, Mitchell flipped over and jutted his backside up, offering it to John. Running a hand over the deep curve of Cam's back, John raked his nails over his back and ass. Squeezing his butt, he pulled the cheeks apart and lined up, shoving himself in to the hilt in one push and driving Mitchell forward into the pillow at the head of the bed. Mitchell's cries of passion were muffled by the pillow as John increased the force with which he was taking him. 

Bending over Cam's back, he wrapped his arms around his chest and pressed tightly against him as he thrust in short, quick jabs. His cheek was pressed to Cam's shoulder and he was being overwhelmed by Cam's scent. Salty sweat, pheromones and pure allaghi filled John's nose. He could hear Cam's racing heartbeat, feel the thrum of blood coursing through him. He had never, ever come so close to losing control and mindlessly biting someone before. The thought of taking blood during sex had always revolted him before, but now he felt his body calling for it. He wanted it.

Turning his head, he opened his mouth and closed his lips over the muscle in Cam's shoulder, sucking. He raked the spot lightly with his teeth. Surely he could control things? If he let his fangs down, he could just make a little scrape, he didn't need to pierce or impale. He could lick up the blood as it welled from a small scrape. He knew just a tiny mouthful of Cam's endorphin rich blood would sustain him for weeks, possibly even months. He didn't need much, he couldn't handle more than that, honestly. 

He yelped in pain and surprise as he felt his fangs break through his gums, sliding down into place. He hadn't done it purposely. The surprise of the sudden pain made him shudder to a stop. He lay there panting, clinging tightly to Mitchell. 

"What?" Cam asked, holding still beneath him as he obviously noticed the change of pace. 

"Damn it." John lifted a hand to his mouth, pressing down on the pain. It would pass quickly, but for the moment it was excruciating because he had not been ready for it. 

"John?"

"Sorry, fangs getting in the way."

Cam clenched around his cock again and John let out a long low hiss and thrust forward forcefully. "Are you gonna bite me?"

"I hadn't planned on it." He rocked forward as he tried to tamp down the pain in his mouth. It would fade soon enough, he could already feel his gums healing. 

"You just need a few licks to get by, right?" Cam had raised his head and was looking back over his shoulder at John.

John gave a brisk nod. "Yeah, just a little bit."

"So, take what you need."

"I'm hardly desperate or starving Mitchell," John said in a rush at the unexpected offer. No one outside the coven had ever offered him blood before. 

Giving John a look, Cam slid backwards to meet his next thrust. "I didn't say you were. I've known a few haima, I've even been bitten a few times. You aren't going to hurt me. A little sting, which will heal fast. You know, I'm pretty sure that my blood is never gonna taste as good as it does right now. I'm friggin' on the edge of a change over and full of sex hormones to boot."

"Get you, tempting me!" John slapped Cam's thigh. "Okay, so where do you want me to bite?"

"There's only two glands you can get to with your fangs. Take your pick, I'm not sure which hormones will taste better."

Damn, Mitchell wasn't kidding, he did know a thing or two. Most people would simply offer their throat for blood or access to the thyroid gland, which John had never had occasion to tap in the past. He had only ever taken blood before. "I don't know," he mused, reaching down to cup Cam's balls, bouncing them lightly to let Cam know what he was considering. The hormones he could draw from a bite directly there in the testes? Potent, extremely potent. According to the stories he’d heard, he'd be high for a week if he took raw hormone.

"I can't," he decided, releasing his grip on Cam's nuts and resuming his thrusts. 

"Why?"

He rubbed his hands over Cam's backside and met his eyes as Cam looked over his shoulder with open curiosity. "Too big a risk. I could lose control and end up linked to you. No, that's too much, too soon. But I'll take a little blood, since you offered."

"Your choice," Cam replied, seeming a bit disappointed.

"Get on your back again," John asked, pulling out and slapping Cam's thighs. Cam rolled over and John quickly slid back in, easily now because Cam was worked open to accommodate him. He rested on his hands, staring down into Mitchell's face. 

"You're not at all what I expected," John told him. "This is more than I could have hoped for when I came back here with you last night. I think we passed the one night stand thing a little while back."

Mitchell reached up and cupped the back of John's head with both hands. "I know, I'm a little confused myself. But this feels good, right?"

"Yeah. Feels right. And good." Turning his face to the left, he brushed his nose against Cam's wrist, then leaned up and closed his mouth over the same spot he had just scented. He sucked and licked before gently touching the tips of his fangs to the vein he found and breaking the skin. He pulled back, not wanting to make the holes any bigger than necessary to let out a small amount of blood. Cam gasped and bucked up under him as he began to lick at the blood that welled up through the two tiny holes. 

"So dainty," Cam teased as John went still within him and closed his mouth over the wounds. 

John's eyes fluttered open and he looked at Cam, staring up at him with complete trust. John had never done this before during sex and he felt his control slipping as even the diluted hormones from Cam's blood started to affect him, igniting his haima physiology. He tightened his grip on Cam's wrist. The blood tingled on his tongue. His senses were immediately heightened. He could feel Cam's heart beating. He could feel Cam's sexual excitement, he could smell it on him. It was extreme. He whimpered at the intensity of... everything. 

"John, keep going, don't stop moving yet," Cam urged, his free hand moving down to squeeze John's ass and pull him forward. "I want you to come. Then I'm gonna have you again."

His eyes rolled back in his head and he gave a few fast thrusts and let himself roll over the peak. He was actively sucking at Cam's wrist now, taking in a full mouthful of blood before swallowing. He hadn't swallowed that much blood since Patrick had turned him seventy years earlier and forced him to it. If he took more, he would be gorging himself. He would quite likely make himself sick. 

Cam's hand came up to cup his cheek. Proving once again that he knew a thing or two about haima, he coaxed, "I need your saliva, John. Let the wounds close. C'mon, you took enough. Let me have you now, I want to be inside you again."

He licked at the holes he had made and reluctantly released his hold on Cam's wrist. Immediately, Cam grabbed John's hips and pressed his cock against John's middle. Mindless with bliss, John collapsed onto Cam's chest and let the other man move him around like a puppet with his strings cut. 

He sighed with pleasure as Cam turned him onto his belly on the bed and spread his ass cheeks. He gasped as Cam pushed into him, with no warning finger to prepare him or lubrication other than what Cam had slicked over his dick. Cam lifted him with a hand under his belly, raising his hips slightly as he pushed his way into John's body. 

"You okay there, buddy?" Cam asked, taking John's wrists and holding them pressed to the mattress beside him as he claimed John's ass once again. 

"So good," John hummed. He felt like he was floating. Cam's cock felt wonderful moving in and out of him. He felt so connected to Mitchell at that moment, more connected than he had ever been in his life to another living person. This could become very addictive. He could imagine wanting to do this again and again. John felt every care and worry drifting away, he was focused on feeling Cam, enjoying Cam's body touching his, sliding in and out of him, possessing him.

He had never submitted willingly, wholeheartedly to another person, but in that moment, he belonged to Cameron Mitchell. It felt good, giving over control, letting Cam do whatever he wanted to John's body. 

"What do you want, John?" Cam asked, one hand moving to press on the small of John's back. 

"More of this. More of you. Feel so good. Smell so good. Taste so good."

Mitchell laughed. He pulled out and rolled John onto his back. He raised John's legs and pushed his knees back to either side, almost to the mattress, exposing John's balls and the slightly gaping hole he had just pulled out of. He ran a finger along the rim of John's asshole, dipping his finger in, crooking it and tugging slightly before releasing and repeating the motion. 

Head on the pillow, John had his eyes closed and his head back, lost in sensation and smell. Cam put his cock to John's ass and pressed back in, bearing down with all his weight, pressing John's legs down to the mattress as he entered him again. John shifted until he could wrap his legs around Cam and pull him in, urging him forward with each thrust and pull backwards.

"I'm so glad you're not human," John whispered with his eyes closed, reaching up to pinch Cam's nipples and pull on them. 

Laughing, Cam returned the favor, which made John cry out and writhe under him, his body completely over-sensitized. He clenched tightly around Cam as Cam began to peak. Apparently, he hadn't been lying about gaining a measure of control over his change to lion form. They had no repeat incident, he stayed human this time around. John was only mildly disappointed, he was fairly certain that Cam's increased girth in his other form would kill him in his overly sensitive state. Even though he wanted to feel more of Cam, to have him in all forms, he did have a lick of self preservation. 

Cam let out a deep shout as he poured into John. Opening his eyes, John found Cam staring at him as he shook and gave a few last thrusts. He rolled to the side and pulled John into his arms, rubbing John's back. "This is intense," Cam whispered, kissing the side of John's face and cradling his head to his shoulder as John continued to tremble uncontrollably.

"Yeah," John admitted. His mouth found a pressure point on Cam's throat and he began to suck lightly on it, enjoying the feel of warm flesh in his mouth. He didn't bite, he just ran his tongue over it and held loosely with his lips. Cam scratched his nails over John's scalp and held him, one leg twining around John's. 

With a sigh, Cam reached over and pulled a blanket over them as their bodies began to cool and John began to shiver. "What in the hell are we going to do now?" Cam whispered, his words echoing the thoughts that were sluggishly running through John's mind. "I think we crossed a line, I can feel you, John, in my head. I think you might have pushed some kind of a link, after all." He might have overdone it, let too much saliva into the wound, put a little too much intent into what he had been doing in the moment.

"Sleep. Think later," John replied. "Feel now," he mumbled, snuggling against Cam and resting his lips on Mitchell's throat. “Good Kittty.” Cam was probably right. But they could sort it out later.

**~*~**

"John, I need to eat," Cam complained, grasping John's shoulder and shaking him until he opened his eyes and looked up at him.

"Not hungry," John grumbled. His body was still processing the blood he had taken in and he was perfectly okay with staying where he was and sleeping.

Cam pulled on his arm. "I can't live on blood, and neither can you. C'mon, you have to force something down."

Reluctantly, John allowed himself to be dragged from the bed. Sluggishly, he located his clothing strewn all over the floor and dressed as Cam paced by the door. Now that John knew what to look for, he saw the feline traits in Mitchell, including the way he held his shoulders as he stalked back and forth. 

"Ready," John announced, going to the door. Mitchell cupped a hand around the back of John's head and pulled him in for a deep kiss before letting him go. 

The mess hall wasn't too crowded. A glance around told John that most of the cartel was present; by habit they tended to take meals together after the main rush of human scientists and soldiers had finished and cleared the room. He waved to Chuck and Nate, who were sitting together. With a curious glance at Mitchell, Nate pointed to the empty table beside them, one eyebrow raised in question. John nodded and continued on towards the food line. 

"Not hungry," he complained in an undertone at Cam's back.

"Eat anyway, you're too skinny," Cam replied quietly, without looking back at him.

Grabbing a banana, John slid his tray down, intending to get coffee. Mitchell dropped a plate of bacon and eggs on John's tray, and a biscuit. "I can't eat all that!" he protested.

"Then I'll help." 

"Let’s go sit over by Stackhouse and Chuck," John directed when they had their coffee. 

Cam took the seat beside Chuck and John slumped into the chair beside the leader of the Atlantis allaghi cartel. He nodded his head in greeting and reached for his coffee.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stackhouse stiffen. He heard him sniff lightly. Then Nate was leaning towards him and inhaling deeply. "What the fuck?!?" Nate exclaimed, shoving at John's shoulder. He stood and leaned over the table, sniffing at Mitchell too. 

He pointed a finger at John. "You reek. His scent is all over you."

"It isn't any of your business, Lieutenant Stackhouse," Cam said on a low tone as Stackhouse angrily sneered at John. 

"All over you!" Nate repeated in a hiss. "I repeat, what the fuck, John?"

John hadn't anticipated this, and so was quite unprepared for Nate's reaction. "Eat your breakfast, Cam. Nate, can we take this outside, please?" He tossed his head towards the balcony doors, hoping no one had decided to take their meal out there today so that he and Stackhouse could have some measure of privacy for this quite unexpected confrontation.

In response, Nate grabbed his upper arm and hauled him from the chair. Only his preternatural ability kept John on his feet and walking instead of being dragged along cave-man style behind Stackhouse to the balcony doors. John glanced back to see Mitchell and Chuck as well as every other allaghi in the room staring after them. Great, just great the entire fernal population of the city would know about this within the hour. 

Stackhouse practically threw him at the railing and stood there with his chest heaving in rage as he glowered at John. "His scent is all over you!"

"Okay, yeah, I admit that as fact, can we get past it?"

"He's allaghi."

"Yeah."

"And you're fucking him."

"Well, yeah." 

Nate took two steps forward. John stepped away until his back hit the railing as Stackhouse stared icily at him. "You are my Rider, damn it!" John was almost overwhelmed with the anger that was pouring off the First Kin. 

Looking past Nate's shoulder, through the glass, John saw that Mitchell had slid his chair back from the table, had his arms crossed over his chest and was watching them. "I don't see what one thing has to do with the other." 

"We have a bond!" Nate hissed. John felt a tickle at the edge of his mind as Nate took a traipse through his surface thoughts and then Nate's eyes went wide. "You took blood. You took blood and you joined with him. You have another bond!"

Well, there was no getting around it. Stackhouse was probably the only one on the base with the ability and power to knock his way through any mental block John might try to throw up to keep him out. He also had his own special ethics about what was and was not acceptable about doing so. "Yeah. I didn't mean for it to happen, but yeah, we have a the start of a tenuous bond."

Nate's hand whipped out and he was clasping John's throat, lifting him slightly off the decking. "You are my Rider!" he ground out and John felt as if he were being pummeled by waves of rage from Nate. "How dare you!" Nate's eyes had gone completely gold, John tried to look away, but found that he couldn't. He wasn't sure what Stackhouse was doing, but he felt his energy draining away, felt himself going limp. He was shaken back and forth, like a rag doll, dangling in Nate's grip. He wasn't able to draw a breath. 

"Lieutenant Stackhouse, put him down!" John heard Cam order, and it seemed like his voice was coming from very far away, though he was only across the balcony at the very most. 

"Stay out of this!" Nate growled.

"You're hurting him, I can't let you hurt him," Cam said. Mitchell was moving closer now. John's hearing was going wonky, it was like listening through deep water, the words were growing indistinct. "Set him down, and we'll take this to a private place and have it out, Lieutenant."

"Don't pull rank on me, Mitchell. Not now, not for this. This is a fernal matter and you damned well know it! You're a fraud, Mitchell, I can smell it on you now. Allaghi."

Nate shook him again, and John realized he was about to black out, something he had not done in ages. Focusing his energy, he raised one hand and grasped Nate's wrist. "Please," he whispered, fearful of another person for the first time since he'd been changed. Fearful of his friend. He didn't know what Nate was doing to him, and he didn't like it. So he begged for it to stop. "Nate, please." 

With a final shake, Nate let him down and let go of his throat. John sagged back against the railing. "Every allaghi on this base knows we have a bond. How dare you do this," Nate rasped. 

Still being pummeled by Nate's temper, John tried to separate himself from the First Kin, to regain his sense of self. He hadn't realized how deep their bond went until now, it was simply something that had always been there in the years since Stackhouse had saved John's life by pushing the bond of Rider on him. 

"You don't want me," John whispered, rubbing his throat. 

"You're still mine," Nate replied with a snarl. He spun around as Mitchell advanced on him. With a roar of anger, Nate threw himself at Cam and they went down in a tumble of limbs. This was not the place for this, this balcony was far too public.

John stumbled towards the men, now punching at each other as they rolled. "Nathan! Cameron! Stop!" 

"I cleared the mess hall," Evan Lorne said near John's ear as his arms were caught behind him and he was pulled back and away from the fighting men. "You need to stay back, Sheppard."

"They can't do this..." John protested. 

Lorne dragged him backwards and held him still. "I heard enough to know you can't get between them, they'll tear you apart. I couldn't figure out what Mitchell was before, but now we all know he's allaghi, or Stacks wouldn't have reacted this way." They were on their feet now, punching and kicking and John could hear growling. “The others think this is a dominance fight for control of the cartel.”

John tried to reason out what to do - no easy task, with the residual effects of whatever Nate had done, as well as his lingering 'blood hangover' from that morning. This could not go on for long. The fight had to stop before one or both of them switched forms. First Kin, Nate was First Kin and able to trounce anyone else that came along, even a powerful lion kin in his prime as Mitchell was. If Nate changed, he would kill Mitchell. 

Not to mention that the repercussions of Nate’s secret getting out would be far reaching and disastrous. "Let me go, Evan. I need to stop this." 

"I can't let you do that, sir."

"Evan, this is a fernal matter, drop the sir or I'll slap you, number one. Number two, I don't need to get too close, just enough to get Nate's attention."

His friend released the hold he had on John's arms. Slowly, John circled around Mitchell to get behind Stackhouse. *Nate, stop,* he said telepathically to the First Kin.

Aloud, he called, "Stop! Cam, I have to go with him. Enough."

Taking a step back, Cam looked at him in confusion. John felt something clench in his middle at the betrayal he saw in Mitchell's eyes. He'd fix this. He had to find a way to fix this. But first he had to make sure Nate wasn't going to tear Cam limb from limb. That was still a very real possibility, judging by the waves of rancor coming at him as Nate turned to scowl at him. 

"John?" Cam looked from Nate to John and back again. 

"We're bonded, he and I, his claim was first, and it's stronger. He's pressing the claim, as you can see." John kept his eyes locked on Nate's as he spoke. If he could get Stackhouse calmed down, he might be able to reason with him. "I'm sorry, Cameron. I made a mess of things."

Stackhouse moved so quickly, John didn't see him coming. He had John's arm in an iron grip and was once again dragging him along. John glanced back helplessly at Cam and mouthed, "I'll fix this. I'm sorry."

_*Nate...*_ he tried to talk to him in mind speech.

_***NOT ANOTHER WORD!***_

John spent the walk to Nate's quarters trying to get his thoughts together. But it was nearly impossible with Nate seething and sending off wave after wave of psychic violence at him.

When the door opened, Nate hurled John inside. He followed and pounced, flattening John to the floor and straddling him. "What are you doing, Nate?"

"What I should have done years ago, staking my claim, Rider!" Nate said through gritted teeth as he undid John's fly. 

"Whoa! Nate, this isn't you. This isn't us. We don't do this, remember? You like women."

Nate continued undressing John, pushing at the waistband of his khakis. "You are mine, Rider."

"Okay, okay," John said, reaching up to rest his hands on Nate's shoulders. This was a new twist, one he would have welcomed years ago, but not so much now, not since sharing his body with Cameron. But he needed to settle things with Nate before he could go to Cam. "If you need to do this, you need to do this. I'm not going to fight you."

He lifted his hips and let Nate drag his pants and shorts down. "Mine," Nate repeated as he stared down into John's eyes. "Damn it. You're mine." He dipped his head and took John's lips in a punishing kiss. 

It wasn't lust driving Nate, it was a need to enforce his claim, to reinforce the bond between them. It had never been about lust between them. Nate's knee moved between John's, pushing them apart. John could feel him struggling out of his jeans as he bit down on John's lip.

"Nate," John murmured and clasped his hands to the sides of Nate's head, pushing him back. "You don't want to do this. I know you don't."

"Need." Nate thrust his hips forward, rubbing his erection against John's groin. 

"I'm still your rider, Nate," John said as the First Kin thrust against him again. "It's never been about sex before, why now?" John had his fingers tangled in Nate's hair, tugging on it to make his friend look at him. "C'mon, think, man. Words. I'll do whatever you need to, but not until I'm sure you really want this."

"His smell is all over you," Nate said, leaning down and biting at John's chin. "I can’t think and smell him at the same time."

Pulling his head back up, John tried to ignore the fact that he was getting hard too. He liked it rough and Nate was playing into a fantasy John used to have about the two of them. "We can fix that, let me go in and take a shower while you cool down."

"Yeah, okay," Nate grunted and threw himself backwards, reaching down to haul John to his feet. He shoved at his shoulder, pushing him along in front of him to the shower stall. When John didn't take off his shirt fast enough, Nate almost ripped it in his haste to get it off John’s body. 

Picking up the bar of soap from the indent in the wall, John stepped under the water and quickly began to rub the suds over himself. He still wasn't fast enough. Taking the soap from John's hand, Nate was soon pressed in behind him, scrubbing over John's body with a soapy washcloth. The rough handling was different, something John was not used to, and certainly not from Nate. Unfortunately, he was rock hard, enjoying it. Unfortunate because nothing could come of it, he could not let Nate carry through with having sex with him, claim or no claim.

Nate forced John's legs apart and reached down with the sudsy cloth to practically dig at John's ass with it. "Hey, whoa!" John exclaimed, rising up on his toes. That provoked Nate into scrubbing harder. Forcing John to turn around to face him, Nate took John's cock in hand and began washing him vigorously, with a savage expression on his face. He knelt and washed John's legs. 

By the time he stood up, his scrubbing motions had dulled from vicious to just forceful. Turning him around, he washed John from head to foot again as the water coursed down over them both. The mental barrage had stopped, John was merely sensing upset now from his friend, the rage was dissipating, the worst part of the storm abating. 

John turned around and grasped Nate's chin, bringing his face up so that he could look at him. "Hey."

"I need to do this," Nate said raggedly. “You're my Rider."

"Is it so ingrained that you can't see beyond that?" John asked gently. 

Nate took hold of John's shoulders and pulled him forward, pressing their bodies together. He bit John's shoulder. _*Mine.*_

_*I guess that's a yes, we’re still going ahead with this craziness.*_

Reaching past him, Nate turned the water off. "Out," he ordered. 

Thinking through his options, John knew he could probably go down on Nate and get him off. But that would not really answer the question over whether they could move forward with a physical relationship. John needed to share his bed with someone, he hadn't realized how much until the night before with Cam. It would be good with Mitchell, John knew it. But he couldn't push Nate out of his life. They did have a bond. They were friends. And John was his Rider. If they could have a true partnership in all senses of the word, then John needed to know, before he let himself get in any deeper with Mitchell. 

He climbed up on the bed and stretched out on his back, as Nate stood at the foot of the bed, staring at John and breathing heavily. "Well, c'mon," John urged, holding his hand out to coax him forward. Nate suddenly went very still and blinked at him. He swallowed and lost some of his menacing air. John noticed that his hard-on had begun to flag a bit, his entire body didn't seem to be on board with the previous plan.

"Well..." Nate made a motion with his finger, indicating that John should flip over.

"Oh, no. If we're doing this, you're going to maintain eye contact and do it right. I'm not some faceless whore or random hole." John held a hand out to him again and waggled his fingers. "When you fuck me, you're fucking me - John. You aren't gonna bend over my back and pretend I'm some chick you brought home that let you do anal." 

Nate knelt on the mattress then moved up to straddle John as he had earlier. He looked uncertain now, not meeting John's eyes. John put his hands on Nate's shoulders, rubbing them lightly over his skin, kneading the muscles, so different in his human form than when he was a gigantic drakon. He moved down to rub the palm of his hand across Nate's chest, circling over a nipple, which made Nate jump and jerk back. "Stop that."

"I'm not gonna let you rape me, Nate. I'll make love to you, because we're bonded and I'm your Rider and your friend, but I am not going to be taken mindlessly for the sake of appeasing some brutal base instinct you have." He caught Nate behind the head with one hand and pulled him down, leaning up to kiss him.

"Wait," Nate said, pulling back as the mood suddenly shifted. John let his lips drift down, raining a trail of kisses along Nate's throat as he pressed up against him. 

Skimming Nate's surface thoughts proved to John that he had been right in taking the time to let Nate calm down and realize exactly what it was that he was doing, or attempting to do. Nate Stackhouse was a gentle soul, this chest beating mating instinct was not the behavior of the friend he knew. He snaked his foot over Nate's calf and began to rub it up and down as he let one hand roam over his back down to his hip and back up again. He thrust his hips up, hitting Nate in the belly with his hard cock. 

"Okay, okay, you made your point, John. Stop touching me!" Nate said, shoving at John's chest and pushing away. He rolled away from John and off the bed. Soon he was pacing back and forth, one hand tangled in his hair as he muttered to himself. 

John pushed up onto his elbows and watched him. "I'm still not your type, right?"

"No. You lack a vagina."

John chuckled. "Yeah, it's always been a problem for me, finding a guy that could overlook that." He smirked at his friend. 

"You're an idiot."

Leaning back a little, John crossed his ankles. "You love me anyway."

"I do, and that's the problem. I love you, but I don't love you... in that way." He waved a hand up and down John's body. “Most Riders and Kin are life partners John. Shit."

John let Nate pace and think a little while before provoking him again. "So, now what happens? I'm sorry, Nate, but I can't be stuck in a touchless relationship forever. And I might have found someone that can stand up to what I need." 

Visibly frustrated, Nate sat on the edge of the bed near John's hip. "We're bonded. That isn't going to change unless one of us dies." This wasn't news to John so he just nodded in agreement. "I just went crazy. I smelled another allaghi's mating scent on you and I lost it. I didn't expect to come up against that today. I swear, I've never gone off like that before."

"I thought things were good the way they were, with us being friends. If I'd suspected something like this would happen, I would have talked to you first, Nate. I would not have thrown Mitchell in your face." John shivered a little and dragged the edge of the blanket over onto himself, being naked and unwanted wasn’t a good combination for his ego. "I honestly didn't think it would matter. I wasn't trying to throw you over or anything. I don't want things between us to change."

Stackhouse dropped his head into his hands. "Uh huh. I get that. I told you at the start I didn't want you in that way. This is so fucked up. Thanks for not letting me... you know."

"Yeah, well, we're friends. And it was partly self preservation. You kinda scare me when you're like that." 

"I scared you?"

With a shrug, John nodded sheepishly as Nate looked at him apologetically. "So what do we do? Mitchell's scent is gonna drive you batshit every time you see him now, you've got it in your nose."

"Yeah, it always will, there's no way around it. This is instinct at work, John. You're mine. I'm imprinted on you. Damn it. I have to find a way to work with him, he's our CO." He ran his hands through his hair. “Crap, I assaulted a senior officer. I’m gonna end up in custody.”

“I think Mitchell might overlook it, it was temporary insanity.” After they each sat lost in thought for a while, something occurred to John. "Huh. I have an idea. Can you bond with another allaghi?"

"Yeah, a drakon can push a bond on anyone, but... I hardly know him!"

John sat up and swatted Nate's shoulder. "Look, think about it. We've been bonded for how many years now? Over four? Neither of us has ever had a need to do anything sexual before today."

"Right, I'm following, go on."

"Say you bonded with Mitchell too - because obviously, it can be done, since I'm bonded to both of you now - then his scent wouldn't make you go crazy, right?"

Nate tilted his head. "I guess not. But he's more likely to punch me in the face right now than agree to be bonded to me for life. For life, John. Damn, this is such a mess."

"I'll talk to him. I have to talk to him, he's pretty pissed at me right now too. I need your permission to tell him you’re First Kin. He won’t say anything. And if he does, you can always change over and eat his furry lion ass.”

“Is everything always sexual to you?”

“I didn’t mean it that way!” John protested. “You’re the one with his mind in the gutter.”

Nate waved a hand at him. “Whatever. You can tell him, if it will help settle this thing between us.”

“Are you over your urge to fuck me into submission?"

"Ew. Yes. Please put your clothes back on. And we won't talk of this again. Ever."

"I could blow you, you might like it. In fact, I guarantee you'll like it." John leered at him as he threw back the blanket and slid to the edge of the bed. 

Nate stood up and began searching for his clothes. He threw John's over at him. "I don't want to have sex with you, John. I thought we just determined that without a doubt?" Nate waved his hand at his very uninterested cock.

"Just making sure." John did up his fly. "For the record, and then we won't talk about it any more, I would have made love to you, if you wanted to. I still would, if that's what it was Nate."

"Oh, shut up and go make up with your new boyfriend," Nate told him, throwing one of John's sneakers at him.

**~*~**

Waving a hand over the chime at Mitchell's door, John waited nervously for a response. The door slid open and Mitchell stood there, and John groaned to himself. If Mitchell had been in his other form, his ruff would be standing on end, he was highly agitated.

He leaned forward and sniffed at John. A strange look passed over his face and he sniffed again. "He didn't screw you. I thought that’s where you were going?"

"Nope. Can I come in? I prefer keeping my sex life private."

Cam stood aside and let him pass. When the door closed, he gave John an intense look. "Did he hurt you? What did he do to you?"

"With a little bit of provocation, he pushed me into the shower and scrubbed your scent off me."

Cam leaned against the wall as John slouched against the edge of his desk. Unconsciously, they mirrored each other, both crossing their arms over their chests. "I don’t know why you’re here. You chose him over me out there on the balcony."

"He was the bigger threat."

"I could have taken him."

John shook his head. "No. Really, no, you couldn't have."

Looking mildly insulted at John’s insistence, Cam ventured "If I switched forms..."

"You'd have broken The Trust, first of all. Fighting in public in true form? And if you had switched, you would have triggered him into doing the same, and you'd be dead. And the balcony would be trashed. And I'd be doing paperwork for years - quite possibly in Leavenworth."

"Pretty confident in him, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

Cam shook his head. "You said you have a bond with him. You've shared blood with him."

"I do, I did, once. I was dying, he saved my life. I was bleeding out, too injured to heal. I would have bled to death if he had not given me blood."

"That doesn’t really make sense. I smelled him, read his scent. I don't know what he is but he isn't haima, no one can feed a haima enough to survive bleeding out and live, except another haima," Cam's knowledge of the various fernal breeds was showing. 

John moved to sit on the edge of the bed, since Cam didn't seem inclined to throw him out on his ear. "I have his permission to tell you some things if I need to. To clear the air."

"I'm listening."

John rubbed the back of his neck, collecting his thoughts. "We don't have a sexual relationship, Nate and I. He's straight, he never showed any inclination before today of pushing the bond to that conclusion, of becoming mates or partners or lovers or whatever you chose to label the relationship. We've been friends, that's all."

"Then why the bond? Why bother with it if it isn't a sexual thing?" 

He was going to have to spill it all. No other explanation was going to make sense to Mitchell. And it was important that Mitchell understand. On the balcony when Nate was dragging him off, John had realized that he wanted Mitchell, he wanted what they had had the previous night, he wanted that kind of connection with someone. Now that he had a taste of what it could be like, it pained him to think of letting it slip away. 

John spoke the next thought that came to him out loud. "I've been living in a desert and I never realized how thirsty I was until you.”

With one eyebrow crooked, Mitchell gave him a look of disbelief. it had sounded a little mushy, even as he had said it. “Look, I was fine with things as they were, having a close friendship with Nate helped me survive out here without a coven."

"This won’t work out between us, not with Stackhouse having a prior claim on you. I can't have a man under my command that goes ballistic every time he gets a whiff of me, John. I’m willing to forgive today, I should have walked away, but it can’t happen again."

"I know, and this is my fault. I didn't talk to him and so he wasn't ready for it and he sort of apologized for freaking out. He feels bad."

Cam grunted and began to pace. "Doesn't change the fact that we have a big problem. One that almost every allaghi on the base is now part and parcel of, having witnessed Stackhouse's tantrum. I didn’t take him down, I didn’t win, so he’s still the leader of the cartel. Shit, this is a mess, I’m going to have a problem with every allaghi on base now for challenging and not carrying through."

"We have a plan that would fix that, if you're amenable."

"Oh, you're using your big boy words, Sheppard. Okay, hit me with the details."

"If Nate formed a bond with you too, then he wouldn't care if your scent was on me. And the cartel wouldn’t care about the challenge. We'd be like a family unit."

Cam stared at him with astonishment. "Some whacked out crazy-ass family, Sheppard!"

"Think about it. He wouldn't care if you touched me, or I touched you, and things would go back to the way they were between me and him. And we could move forward with whatever it is we have going."

"A bonding is for life, John. He tried to rip my head off my shoulders this morning!"

John fluttered his hand dismissively. "He was being animalistic, giving in to his fernal nature. He's really a nice guy, Cam. Kinda goofy, when you get to know him.”

Wiping a hand over his face, Cam shook his head. "It wouldn't work. He isn't haima, and without a mating bond, without sex, which you said he doesn't want with a man, I couldn't bond with another allaghi."

"Welllll..."

"Well what?"

"He can push the bond, Nate can make it work. Without sex. Without blood."

"Okay, now you lost me. That's impossible."

"He'd make you a Rider." There, it was out, it was said. "Like me."

Dropping into his desk chair, Cam stared at John as the import of what he was saying sank in. "Rider," Cam whispered. "Last night you said you fell 500 feet from a dragon. Holy shit. Holy damn fucking shit, John! Are you telling me Stackhouse is First Kin?"

"Yes, though he prefers to be called drakon."

Cam slumped back in the chair and stared at him. 

"You okay, Cameron?"

"You just told me that dragons are real. I am not okay." 

Standing up, John walked over and moved to sit on the floor at Cam's feet. Drained after the emotional roller coaster of the day thus far, he needed to feel some contact, to feel the warmth of another body. He pressed a cheek to Cam's thigh, resting his head there. After a minute, Cam began to stroke his head softly. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Don't send me away," John whispered, the words just slipping out in answer to what was probably a rhetorical question on Cam's part. 

"Shit. This is real, isn't it? We're bonded. You're hurting over all of this, I can feel it."

John nodded, hiding his face against Cam's leg, ashamed that he was losing control over his ability to mask his emotions. He had gone decades alone without anyone getting through and now Cameron was right there, inside his defenses.

"Come here, come on up here," Cam urged, tugging on the sleeve of John's shirt. Slowly, John went up on his knees, then stood up. Cam pulled him down across his knees and feeling small and childish, John curled up on his lap and pressed his nose into the curve of Mitchell's throat. Cam's arms were around him, holding him, and John felt himself starting to shake. "Okay. I'm not letting go. We'll make it work."

It had been a very long time since John had accepted comfort from anyone. He felt himself relaxing in Cam's arms, his mind drifting, comfortable, cared for. Shit, he was in such deep trouble. 

_*He's good for you.*_ Stackhouse spoke into John's mind, jolting him out of the dopey, loose, almost stoned thing he had going on. _*He's got you to a place I've never been able to get you to. Not even when we’re flying.*_

_*Jealous?*_ John replied lazily.

The response was tinged with humor. _*Happy for you. You deserve to have someone. I'm really sorry about today, John. I want this to work out.*_

"Nate says he's sorry," John whispered, raising his head and looking up at Cam. "He wants it to work out for us."

"Well, I suppose I need to talk to him. The sooner the better. You stay here." Cam gave John's hip a gentle push.

"Now?"

Cam laughed as John stood up and weaved on his feet. "Yes. If I stay here, I'll end up taking you back to bed. I'm going to have a little face to face with Stackhouse and then get lunch for both of us. I'm hungry."

"Again?"

"Still. My breakfast got interrupted by your jealous caveman husband." 

"He's not my husband."

Cam snorted. "Coulda fooled me. Take a nap, John, you're worn out. Today is supposed to be a mandatory rest day."

If he didn't feel so drained, he would have argued. Instead, he went and flopped across Cam's bed and was asleep before Cam was out the door.

**~*~**

"May I come in for a few minutes?" Cam asked when Stackhouse opened the door.

"You're here sooner than I expected. Come in."

Cam stepped inside and shrugged. "John is pretty torn up about this and I don't want to drag it out."

"God, I smell him on you now," Stackhouse said, rolling his eyes.

Cam took a step back and held up his hands. "You are not washing me down."

"Don't worry, I've got a grip now. Look, it's obvious that John has feelings for you. He's not the impulsive type, so frankly I'm shocked that he bonded with you so quickly. But he did, and now we have to move on from it."

Mitchell nodded. "Agreed. He told me, what you are. I thought your kin were extinct."

"We very nearly are. Ronon and Teyla have been keeping an ear to the ground trying to find any clutches here in Pegasus. There are other fernal, so it is possible the drakon survived here. They wouldn't have fallen prey to The Plague on Earth."

"It was a plague that wiped you out?" Cam asked, his curiosity piqued. 

"The Plague. The Black Death, horrible little thing in the 1350's? We weren't immune, and it made many of those of us that contracted it and survived it sterile. It was a dreadful way to die, let me tell you. And the air reeked of death, constantly, for years."

"You were there? You lived through it?"

"Yeah. I was one of the lucky ones that didn’t get sick. I was born in Germany, but I moved to England to get away from the plague fires after my family died. I was young, only about fifty at the time."

Cam was shocked. "You're seven hundred years old?"

"Give or take a few years, I lost track, we didn’t exactly keep to the Roman calendar in the old days. Enough about me."

"John said you could push a bond. Without any exchange of bodily fluids."

Stackhouse nodded and dropped his hands to his hips. "It means for life, Mitchell. I went four hundred years without a Rider. And now I'll have two, if we do this thing. I want no part of your bedroom shenanigans. I am not doing this for the sex. I want that to be clear."

"As crystal. I don't like the idea of sharing John, or any partner for that matter, in a sexual way, so I'm fine with things being the way they were between you. I'll be the stepbrother you're stuck with."

Laughing, Stackhouse slapped his shoulder. "Aptly put. So, do you want to think about it?"

"Nothing left to think about. I need to be able to show my face around base after that fiasco on the balcony. But more importantly, you and John have had a thing for four years, and I came along and screwed it up. This is a way to fix it and give him back what he had."

A smile bloomed on Nate's face. "He chose well, I like you, Mitchell."

"Good, that means you won't eat me in a fit of temper."

Stackhouse shuddered. "Ew, raw meat. All that sinew, stuck between the teeth. Uck. No thanks. I try not to eat people, I stick to spitting on them."

"How... cheesy," Cam said with a shake of his head. 

"I spit acid," Nate amended.

"Ah, well, that's not at all lame, much better. How do we do this?"

Nate extended his hand and Cam took it after only a moment's hesitation. Nate shook it. "Okay, we're in agreement. Close your eyes and relax. Don't fight me when I touch your mind." He let go of Cam's hand.

**~*~**

"Wake up sleepy head." Cam whispered, kissing John's ear. Something was waved under his nose and John's stomach rumbled at the scent of meat.

He opened his eyes and reached up to snatch the Jamaican beef patty from Cam's hand. Cam laughed as he bit into it eagerly. "I ran into Lorne, he said you liked those."

John nodded and chewed, looking Cam over. "You seem to be in one piece. No bruises, so I take it there was no fight?"

"Nope. We kissed and made up. Shove over, I want to lie down. I have a headache from this thing Nate did." 

John swallowed the bite in his mouth. "You did it already? Just like that?"

"Well, yeah. It seemed the best plan, given the situation. You trust him implicitly, and he hasn't made a move on you in four years, so I figured it was safe. I gave it more thought than I gave to bonding with you last night."

"True." Shifting over to make room on the bed, John went back to eating the beef patty as Cam snuggled down and wrapped himself around him.

"Can you talk telepathically with him?"

Cam shook his head. "No. He said it might come with time, or after he's shifted to his other form. Too soon to tell. I'm gonna take a nap to sleep this headache off."

Feeling worn out himself, John finished eating, licked the crumbs off and wiped his damp fingers on his t shirt, which he pulled off and threw aside. Cam had already begun to snore, and John smiled. Cam wasn't going to push him away. He wrapped an arm around Mitchell and closed his eyes, letting sleep have him.

**~*~**

The radio buzzing on the nightstand, vibrating and dancing across the surface woke Cam from his nap. He rolled over and fumbled to get the earpiece in place, not wanting to wake John, who was sprawled out beside him. “Mitchell,” he said quietly.

“Sorry to disturb you on your day off sir, but we have a bit of a situation, we need you in the Control Room, as soon as you can get here,” Lorne’s voice was apologetic.

“On my way,” Cam said, kicking his way out of the sheet and sliding around to put his feet on the floor.

“You’ll probably want to bring Colonel Sheppard along, sir.”

Cam rolled his eyes and reached over to give John’s shoulder a shake. “Do I want to know how you know things, Major?” John opened his eyes and blinked at him sleepily.

Seemingly unfazed, Lorne replied, “Probably not.”

“Do I get a hint or are we walking into an ambush up there?” He waited until John sat up and stretched before moving off the bed to get dressed.

“There’s some folks in orbit requesting asylum, I think it best that you handle the details.”

John was moving sluggishly. Cam tossed his trousers to him, but John didn’t see them coming and they hit his chest and dropped to his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. “We’ll be along as quickly as possible, Major. Mitchell out.”

“Whatsamatta?” John mumbled, fingering the tan pants as Cam pulled a fresh t-shirt from his drawer and tugged it on.

“We have visitors. Lorne doesn’t want to clear them to land.” He moved around to stand in front of John. “Are you always this slow to wake up, Sheppard?”

Blinking stupidly, John looked up at him. “I’m still a little stoned. It’s the blood, the thing with Nate hit me hard, I’m crashing.”

“You didn’t take more than a mouthful. That little bit did this to you?” When John nodded dopily and smiled, Cam clasped John’s jaw and forced his face up. His pupils were slightly blown, the pupils huge black almost obscuring the hazel that was usually there. It changed his face. For the first time since meeting him, Cam thought John looked like the other haima Cam had known in the past. They must have been ingesting blood more frequently that Sheppard did. “Are you okay to go up to Control?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, I can force myself to sober up when I have to. Shame to waste this buzz though, I feel really good.” He stretched his arms up wide and high and twisted his neck from side to side, making a loud crack.

“Then don’t force the issue. We’re technically off duty. I’ll dump a bucket of water over you if I need for you to think clearly.” Sheppard was amusing like this, his movements slow and deliberate. Occasionally, a smile flashed across his face as he looked around the room and focused on something. If Cam didn’t need to be somewhere else, he would have watched Sheppard for a while before tackling him to the mattress and ravishing him.

Scooping up John’s t-shirt from the floor, Cam wrinkled his nose at the smell he picked up from it. He balled it up and tossed it to the laundry basket in the corner and opened a drawer in his bureau. He pulled out a plain black short sleeved shirt. With slow and deliberate movements, John was pulling on his socks. “Speed it up, fang-boy. We’re on the clock!” He tossed John the shirt, which got him a puzzled look. “Your shirt reeks. Wear that one and get a move on.”

John gave him a mildly dirty look, but he did increase his pace.

**~*~**

Walking along behind Mitchell on the way up to Command, John allowed himself to enjoy the way his body was tingling in places, a leftover reaction from the infusion of fresh blood he had taken from Mitchell. He felt light. He could almost feel his own blood coursing through him. He knew he had come close to overdosing on Mitchell’s blood. He had almost crossed the line and taken too much to handle. His gaze slipped to Mitchell’s ass and he watched him walk for a while, focusing on the way the muscles moved beneath the denim he was wearing.

While he was decidedly and deliciously dopey, in some ways he was hyper alert, all his enhanced senses were picking up information and heaping it back on him, almost faster than he could process it. In some cases, to the point of pain. He wished he had his sunglasses, his eyes were bothering him, the lights were so bright. Just as the thought crossed his mind, the light level in the corridor dimmed. 

“What just happened?” Mitchell muttered, his hand going up to his radio.

“I did,” John admitted before Cam could call anyone. “I was thinking that it was too bright in here, and I guess the city helped.” 

He was hearing things, both mental and aural as if the volume control were turned up to eleven. Every person that walked past them in the corridor was an open book with their surface thoughts hitting him like a radio broadcast. The more people they passed, the more stations he picked up. His nostrils were twitching with scent overload. He could make it all stop; it would be a simple matter to block everything and force himself to sober up. He would, as soon as it became absolutely necessary. 

"Are we on duty?" John asked Cam and then stifled a giggle at how slurred his words had come out.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Mitchell rolled his eyes at him. "I am, you aren't. Maybe you should go back to bed and sleep this off."

He waved a hand and gave a dismissive snort. "Nah. I can clear my head if I have to."

"You sure?" John easily read the skepticism coming from Mitchell. He gave a nod. Empathy was one of his lesser skills, he usually only picked up strong emotions from people. But in this state, he could get subtle nuances, mixed emotions, cuddly, comfortable feelings. John was reassured by the things he was picking up from Mitchell. He sensed no conflicted emotions, no deep regret, no guilt. Maybe this would work out between them.

"Damn, what's that smell?" he said, covering his nose with one hand as he was hit with a potent and unfamiliar scent.

Mitchell sniffed the air and gave a low laugh. "That's a ledvik in heat."

"We have ledvik in the city? How did I not know this before?" 

With a shrug, Mitchell replied, "We have two, a mated pair. They're only here because they _are_ a mated pair. The Fernal Branch keeps a close eye on them, just like the civilian authorities do. Can't have rogue ledvik running around sucking people's life energies, now can we? They feed off each other and the status remains quo."

"Who are they?"

"If you don't know, I'm not outing them."

When they arrived at the Control Room, mostly staffed by unfamiliar faces since the regular crew was off for the day, Lorne looked up with relief and a hint of a knowing smile as he peered more closely at John. Lorne had known John a lot longer than Cam and probably knew exactly the state the haima was in. John’s movements were airy and deliberate, and he didn’t seem to be mentally present at the moment. Trusting that John could remedy that when it was necessary, Cam left it up to him whether to push the buzz away or not.

“Someone’s knocking on the ceiling?” Mitchell asked the room at large.

“Genii refugees on a Traveler ship. They’re spinning an odd tale. Genii was overrun by something creepy.”

John ignored the knowing smirk on Lorne's face. He stood at Mitchell's shoulder as the base commander leaned over Chuck's console. "What do we have?"

 

 

"Ladon Radim."

Listening with half an ear, John's attention drifted in and out of the conversation the Mitchell had with Radim. Thankfully, Mitchell didn't ask his opinion on anything as he arranged for the fleeing Genii on the ship to come down and make a temporary camp on the mainland, the Colonel addressed all his commands about settling the Genii to Major Lorne. 

"Sheppard, my office," Cam said, drawing his attention away from the swirling colors of Chuck's aura. Falling into step behind Mitchell, John held his tongue and didn't compliment the tech on the brightness and variety of hues he was projecting. 

"Do that mental thing with the windows," Mitchell said as soon as the door closed behind John. The city happily and quickly obliged his request for privacy. “You’re still tripping, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, a little. My senses are on overload. Do you want me sober? I can force it.”

Cam went to his desk, pulled the chair back and sat. “That will leave you with a real painful hangover, wouldn’t it?” John nodded. “Then don’t. Lorne can handle Ladon Radim and his problem for today. I’m not sending anyone to Genii to liberate it from these invaders until we’ve interviewed them and gotten a better idea what we’re dealing with. What do you want to do with the rest of your day off?”

Moving to lean on the edge of the desk beside Cam’s chair, John grinned. “I’m hungry. “

“Me too. Lunch?”

“Not just for lunch.” John licked his lips and gave Cam what he hoped was a suggestive look.

It apparently worked, Mitchell’s breath hitched and his pulse rate increased. His words didn’t match up with his body language, however. “I don’t want to take advantage of you when you’re not in complete control of your senses.”

Sliding closer, so that their legs were touching as John continued to lean on the desk, he let his voice drop low and husky. “Oh, I’m in control. I know exactly what is going on, there’s just so much coming at me that I have to pick and choose my focus. “

“So you aren’t drunk?”

“Not really. Buzzed. A little high, I guess. But I’m alert enough. You wouldn’t be taking advantage, I know what I’m doing.” He stroked his fingers along Mitchell’s bare arm, from his wrist up to the edge of his t-shirt sleeve. He fingered the black material lightly for a moment. 

Mitchell stood suddenly, grasping John’s wrist and dragging him forward and the pushing him into the chair. “Good. Sit.” He knelt in front of the chair and was undoing John’s fly before John realized what he was up to. Sliding one hand inside John’s fly, Cam groped him. 

“Mmmm. Yeah, you can keep touching me.” John closed his eyes and tilted his head back as Cam drew his cock out of his pants and began to stroke him adroitly. His hand moved purposefully up and down, twisting slightly as he got to the tip. Mitchell let his palm slide over the sensitive head, occasionally closing over it and tugging lightly, changing up the rhythm. Enjoying the sensations, John sighed in contentment.

“Feels good?”

“Oh yeah,” John replied on another sigh.

Mitchell moved forward so that John’s thighs were wrapped around him. “Different when you’re on this blood high?”

“I can feel your pulse through your hand. I could come just from this,” he admitted, his head still tilted back. 

“Can’t have that,” Mitchell said and leaned forward. A moment later, John’s cock was enclosed in wet warmth. He bucked up off the chair, thrusting into Cam’s mouth. He choked down a scream as he fluttered his hands and grabbed the sides of Cam’s head, digging his hands into Mitchell’s scalp as he bobbed up and down on John’s cock.

He opened his eyes to watch Mitchell, which excited him more when he saw that Mitchell was watching him. Their eyes met and John felt his entire body tighten in response. “I’m not going to last more than a minute, Cameron.”

Cam pulled off and stroked him, his palm hot against the skin of John’s shaft. “You don’t have to.” Then he took John into his mouth again and resumed sucking on him. True to his word, John bucked up and spilled hotly into Cam’s mouth. Mitchell never broke eye contact as he swallowed down everything John shot out. He sagged back against the chair as he finished, with Mitchell continuing to lick and suck on him. Loosening his grip, John began to brush his fingers over Cam’s head, noting the silky texture of his hair as he did so.

“Feel good?”

“Oh yeah,” John replied with what he knew had to be a witless smile. “I’m all limp now.” He raised one hand and let it drop onto Mitchell’s shoulder. “Rag doll.”

Mitchell licked his lips and smiled. “Loose all over?”

“All over.”

“Good.” Cam stood and dragged John up out of the chair by the wrists and kissed his lips briskly. He gave John a quick hug before he turned him to face the desk. John felt his khakis being dragged down and then Cam had a palm flattened on his back and was pushing him forward. Reaching his arms out, John grasped the far edge of the desk as he lay across it. He rested one cheek on the cool wood surface. Under his fingers and cheek, the highly polished wood felt smooth. Behind him, Mitchell had wrestled one of John’s sneakers off and had pushed his trousers and shorts off. His clothing was bunched up around the other foot. 

Mitchell was soon pressed against him, hands roving over John’s back, fingers digging in through his t-shirt, which he did not remove. The emotions coming off Mitchell, over and above lust, were excitement and mischievousness. Suspecting the cause of that combination, John remarked casually, “We could get caught, someone could walk in.” He was rewarded with a surge in Mitchell’s excitement and he chuckled. “You naughty thing.” John had locked the door when he had darkened the windows, but Mitchell didn’t need to know that, not if it would spoil his fun.

Cam spread his ass cheeks and fingered his hole with a damp fingertip. John sighed and let Mitchell play, let him do whatever he wanted to. He lay there across the desk, as loose as the rag doll he had professed to be, his grip on the edge of the desk limp. Mitchell reached under him and rolled his balls in one hand as he probed John’s ass with the fingers of his other hand. 

“Talk to me, John. How does that feel?”

“Mmmmm,” he replied, soaking in emotions from Cam and reveling in the sensations Cam’s touch evoked. He tightened his grip on the edge of the desk when Cam touched the head of his cock to John’s hole and very slowly and deliberately pushed in, drawing out the insertion for as long as he could, making it last. John let out inarticulate noises and tried to remain still and loose, since that had seemed to excite Cam earlier. He felt every centimeter of Cam’s cock as it entered him, stretching the skin of his anus to accommodate the girth. He had felt full and stretched out before, but now, with his senses in this crazed hyper-mode, it was almost overwhelming. 

“You okay?” Cam rasped near his ear as he bent over John. The hair on his chest tickled the skin of John’s back. 

“All so much,” John admitted, biting down on his lip as Cam pushed the rest of the way in, the hair on his groin tickling John’s ass, the weight of his balls bumping against John’s balls as he thrust forward and began to lightly rock against John. “Feel so much.”

A wave of concern hit John as Cam asked, “Overwhelming? Do we need to stop?”

“I’ll just pass out when it’s too much. Keep going, I’m fine.” 

“I just want to stay still like this for a minute and feel you around me.” Mitchell nuzzled at the back of John’s neck and then kissed a trail over his shoulder blades and then back again. John heard a low rumbling growl and then Mitchell sank his teeth into the skin at the back of John’s neck. Then he began to move, pulling out as slowly as he had pushed in, all the while keeping his hold of John’s skin between his teeth and emitting that low growl. Under an onslaught of emotion and overwhelming sensual feeling coming from where he was so intimately joined with Mitchell, John whimpered, fully taken.

With restraint, Mitchell withdrew completely and then once again slowly pushed his way in bit by bit. He repeated the slow fucking three more times, until John was sobbing under him, overwhelmed by the sensations his over sensitized body was feeling. Through it all, John remained slack and unmoving under Cam. Mitchell’s control eventually snapped, he released his biting hold on John, straightened up and began to thrust more quickly and forcefully. John had thought it impossible to feel more, but when Mitchell hit his prostate, John let out a yelp and blacked out. 

When he came to, Mitchell had hips in his grasp and was pulling him up to meet each forceful thrust forward. “Answer me, John.”

“Uhnnnn,” John responded, hoping the non-words were enough to satisfy his partner’s demand for an answer to whatever he’d asked. It seemed to be; Mitchell grunted and continued moving in and out of his body. 

"Okay?" Cam grunted as he pressed down along John's back again. "Am I hurting you?" His fingers were now digging into John's upper arms, holding onto him as he thrust. 

"I'm good. How're you? You in control there?"

Cam bit his shoulder and laughed. "Yeah, so far. Damn, you're hot like this." Cam slid his hands along John's arms to grip his wrists. 

"Mmm, gonna have you over my desk someday."

"Promise?" Cam grunted, and John laughed as he made a sound of agreement.

Mitchell tightened his clasp, gripping John's wrists hard enough to leave bruises, were John a human. Tight enough that he might just leave bruises, even though John was haima. He was thrusting roughly, so that John was being driven forward into the desk with each shove. His cock was pressed painfully against the wood surface, rubbing it with each thrust. It was an intense pleasure-pain. Thanks to his fernal nature, his recovery time was exponentially faster than that of a human male, and his cock was hard again. He couldn't remember the last time he had so much sex in such a short space of time. He willed the erection away, wanting to remain loose and relaxed, since it seemed to be turning Mitchell on to have him that way. 

"Coming," Mitchell grunted, rearing up and grasping John's hips as he began to thrust more quickly, and somehow with even more ferocity than before. John turned his head and pressed his forehead to the desktop, trying to shift his focus so that he was only aware of Cam's touch on his body, Cam's cock inside him. He blocked out everything else, everything he had been picking up from outside the office. Lorne had things under control, he didn't need to pay attention to work at the moment. He closed his eyes and let himself just feel.

The sound Mitchell made when he peaked was a combination of a feline roar and John's name. It felt to John as if Cam poured a gallon of come into his ass. He sagged against the desk as Mitchell panted and pumped into him a few more times before collapsing over John's back.

"You okay, big guy?" John asked lazily after Mitchell hadn't moved in a while. 

"Yeah. I don't know what's come over me. I've been a fucking sex maniac since you touched me in that damned rec hall last night. I can't stop touching you." Mitchell pushed himself up and off John. John heard the chair squeak as he sat down heavily. Then Cam's hands were on his thighs and tugging him backwards. John let himself be dragged across Mitchell's lap. 

It was odd. Cam's pants were down around his ankles, as were John's, they were both still wearing their shirts, which were soaked with sweat from their exertions. When Cam's arms came around him, John started to struggle to get up, unused to the position and a little uncomfortable sitting in another man's lap. Earlier, it had been a comfort, now it was grating on his nerves, proof to John that he hadn’t turned into a complete mush after all. "Let me up," John said. "Too much. Let go. Let me up, Cameron."

Immediately he was released and he stood. He started to shiver, goosebumps rising on his sweat dampened skin. He bent and arranged his boxers and khakis so that he could pull them up. Then he started searching for his missing shoe, the one Cam had pulled off earlier. He found it and jammed his foot into it. 

"You don't like being held?" Cam asked as he buttoned up his jeans. John sensed confusion and concern coming from him, a tinge of guilt as well. Damn it, he hated empathics, he got all mushy and sensitive and now he wanted to just go over and cuddle Mitchell to make him feel happy again, as he had before John pushed away from him. 

"I do. Just... not like that. Not like a baby, or a pet."

The negative emotions dissipated and Mitchell smiled at him. "Got it, I understand." He pushed his chair back under the desk and arranged the computer he had pushed aside back at the center. "Thanks, for putting up with me, like that." He tossed his head towards the desk.

Turning, John surged forward and caught Cam's face in his hands, kissing him passionately. Hesitantly, Mitchell put his arms around John's waist and hugged him closer. His hands moved up to rub over John's back as he deepened the kiss. "I liked it," John said as he pulled back. "And I meant what I said, you're gonna be bent double over my desk one day soon."

"I look forward to it," Cam smiled and kissed him again. 

"Food," John said, breaking off the kiss and stepping back. 

Mitchell let him go and nodded in agreement. "Food, yes." He went to the office door. "Back stairs?"

John laughed. "Yeah, let's not walk past Chuck, we'll make the poor guy twitch for the rest of the day, if he picks up our scent." Chuck Campbell, a dog kin allaghi, arguably had the strongest nose in the city, of any fernal. He had told John once that he liked working in the Control Room because fewer people came and went past his post there than other posts he had held. Fewer scents to sort through and ignore in order to do his work. John didn't want to tease him with sex smells, not with three hours left to his duty shift.

**~*~**

They had an uneventful meal together in the dining hall, which was mostly empty when they got there, quite a difference from their aborted breakfast. Cam heaped his tray high and ate three times as much as John. Sheppard's eyes had lost their glaze and he didn't seem as distracted by the end of their meal.

"Are we going to sneak around?" Cam asked as they finished eating.

"I prefer not to," John replied. "Too stressful. I don't think we need to make any announcements, but I prefer not to hide."

Cam nodded. He didn't want the stress that came with that either. "If it becomes an issue, I was thinking of retiring anyway, I'll take the brunt of it and I'll resign. The Fernal Branch has caught up with me, they know where I am, and they've been trying to get me under their thumb for a while now. I don't want to play ball with them, I’d rather retire."

Sheppard looked across the table at him with understanding. "That's why I'm out here. It was the furthest I could go to get away from them."

Sipping his coffee, Cam asked, "And now?"

"And now it's home. I wasn't happy when the city was grounded in San Francisco Bay, I couldn't wait to get back out here. You know you're part of the cartel here now," Sheppard blurted suddenly after they had been sitting quietly drinking their coffee.

Cam blinked in surprise. "I'm what?"

"Well, it follows that if you've got a bond with Nate, then you're part of his cartel." He had forgotten about the bond with Stackhouse. How had he forgotten that already? 

"I guess it isn't very strong, if you forgot already," Sheppard laughed. 

"I guess not."

Sheppard set his coffee mug down. "Tell me what happened?"

He shrugged. "There wasn't very much to it at all, really. Stackhouse touched his fingers to my face, then made a Spock joke as he did the whole "My mind to your mind" thing."

"Any pain?"

"Just a headache. It was weird, it felt like something was pushing into my head. Then I felt his presence all around me. He was staring into my eyes and I couldn't look away. I felt really tiny and insignificant for a few moments, like a little kid looking up at an adult."

Sheppard was nodding and smirking. "Yep, that's how he makes me feel too."

"It must be the First Kin thing. I guess we're lucky he doesn't walk around lording it over us all. According to the stories and histories I've read, his ancestors acted like royalty."

"Given their other form, are you surprised?"

"Not really, no," Stretching his arms and leaning back to let his back crack, Cam announced, "I need a shower."

There was a predatory gleam in Sheppard's eyes as he nodded in agreement. "A shower sounds good." He leaned forward and leered. "Want company?"

"If this keeps up, you'll turn me into a sex addict.

John gulped the rest of his coffee down then put the cup on the tray Cam was about to carry away. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

All the way to John’s quarters, Cam tried to make a mental list of reasons why it would be a bad thing. Aside from being time consuming and possibly taking his mind off his work, he couldn’t think of many things at all to add to the list of negatives. His list of positives, however, got longer every time he looked over at Sheppard.

**~*~**

“Are you still high?” Cam asked as John went to his bureau to collect clean clothes.

“Nope, coming down. Time and the food took most of the edge off, the caffeine from the coffee just killed the rest.” 

Mitchell eyed John’s narrow bed. “How do you sleep there?”

“I’m used to it, these have been my quarters since we got here. I don’t move around much when I sleep. “

“Obviously. I’d fall off if I tried to sleep in that thing. Seriously, Sheppard, get a real bed.” 

John smiled and sidled over to Cam, leaning in to whisper suggestively, “I could just share yours.”

“Killing me. I’m never going to sleep again.”

"I'll let you sleep once in awhile," John nipped along the stubble on Cam's jaw. "Scruffy," he murmured, then kissed his lips. 

Mitchell took him by the shoulders and gently nudged him back. "I'll shave in the shower." He walked over to John's bathroom and stuck his head in. Then he disappeared inside. "Holy shit! You've got a whole shower room in here!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing off the walls.

Going in to join him, John replied, "That's the other reason I put up with the small bed. The jet sprayers on the wall are amazing." He laughed heartily as Mitchell began to strip out of his clothes. 

"Okay, we'll shower here and then go back to my place. This is a different unit than mine. Mine has hot and cold levers, that's it. Where's the hot water control?"

Pulling his borrowed t-shirt over his head, John kicked off his pants and went to join Cam, already inside the glass-enclosed shower "room." He moved up close behind Mitchell, who was examining the wall of inset alien control crystals. John could have requested mentally for the city to turn on the water, but that wouldn't answer Mitchell's question and he didn't feel the need to show off. 

He reached around Cam, took his hand and pressed his palm to the sensor crystal. "If you hold your hand here, the unit will scan for your body temperature and automatically adjust the hot water to a comfortable level."

The water came on, spraying from two different jets, one over their heads, the other behind them. "These are the controls to get side and lower jets going." John moved Cam's hand to the first of those control crystals. 

"I think I love your bathroom," Cam sniffed dramatically. John wrapped his arms around Cam's waist as he played with the various controls, adjusting them to get the pressure the way he wanted it. "Can I make the water hotter?"

Nuzzling am's neck, John mumbled "Mmm hhhmm. Last crystal on the right, tap it and wait, repeat until you're happy."

He had one knee between Mitchell's, and Cam was leaning back against him, his ass nestled against John's groin. John didn't do anything to tamp down his ardor as his cock hardened and pressed against his companion's rear end. 

He let one hand drift down and lazily began to tug on Cam's cock until Mitchell slapped at him. "Let me wash first, or we'll be in here all day."

Reluctantly, John released his hold on him. He turned to the bench seat against one wall and retrieved a scrub sponge and a bar of soap. Mitchell had turned his back to the spray and had his head tilted all the way back as the water splashed down over him. John gulped at the sight of bare throat, whiskers and water. His dick tightened in response.

He stepped forward and dropped one hand to Cam's hip to warn him that he was right there and then began to stroke the soapy sponge down the length of Cam's neck and throat, needing to touch there first. The suds rinsed away immediately under the spray and John followed the path of the sponge with his lips, nipping and licking and occasionally sucking lightly. 

Cam put a hand onto John's shoulder for balance. He touched John's head with the other, stroking the wet hair back from his face. When John raised his head and looked up, he leaned forward and caught John's lips in a kiss, a gentle one, softer than any they had exchanged previously.

**~*~**

"Go easy," Cam whispered, wanting this to last, wanting something less heated and more sensual between them this time. If they'd been human, Cam was certain both of them would be passed out, done in by all the sex they'd had thus far. But they were both fernal and recuperated quickly. They'd be at each other again before they left the shower, Cam was certain of it.

John's hands slowed as he washed Cam with the soapy sponge, acceding to his request without a word. He took Cam's wrist in one hand and soaped his arm, staring at the shoulder and working his way down to his wrist. Then he lifted Cam's arm and washed beneath, tickling him. Cam bit down on a giggle, but he couldn't stop himself from flinching at the touch. John released his wrist and chuckled. 

"Ticklish spot, eh?" John mumbled, smiling at him as he picked up the soap again and rubbed it against the sponge. He did Cam's other arm, pressing a bit harder when he washed under his other arm, so that he didn't tickle him with the sponge. "Tickling is for another day."

"I appreciate that," Cam replied. 

John scrubbed the sponge over his pecs, circling slowly. He leaned in and offered Cam his mouth he washed his chest. Moving his hands up John's water-slicked neck, Cam clasped his face between his hands and kissed him. There was no rush to it. They didn't need speed now. He slowly explored the contours of John's lips, memorizing the feel and shape of them. He stroked inside John's mouth with his tongue, tasting him, learning his flavor. He moved the tip of his tongue over John's teeth, pausing when he felt the bump on one side of his mouth where his fang would emerge. He teased at the spot until he felt John's lips quirk up into a smile. 

"Don't play with my fangs," John whispered playfully as Cam drew back to catch his breath. "Naughty Kitty."

"I am not a kitty!" Cam protested feebly as John sucked on his collarbone. 

"Are so. A big, giant, lion kitty."

Cam really couldn't argue, though this was the first time anyone had referred to him as kitty. Since John was being playful about it, he let it pass. "No one is putting a collar and bell on me!" Cam told him as John washed his belly and he had to say something to avoid giggling because it was tickling him again.

"Nice Kitty," John said, stroking a hand over Cam's belly, through the suds he had just put there. "You like this, don't you?"

"Are you reading my mind?"

"No. I don't have to, you're purring."

Well, shit.

John glanced up at him and smirked. "Turn around. There's a good Kitty." John began washing his back and Cam sighed in contentment, stretching up onto his toes, to Sheppard's apparent amusement. "Yeah, you like this, big guy." John rubbed circles over Cam's soapy back, in no apparent hurry to finish with the bathing. That suited Cam fine, he was enjoying the attention very much. 

Apparently avoiding Cam's groin and ass for the moment, John knelt in the puddle of water at Cam's feet. He soaped up the sponge again and washed Cam's thighs, nudging his legs apart gently. 

John nuzzled and kissed his thighs as the water ran down his legs. His fingers rubbed and kneaded softly. He paid special attention to Cam's knees, running his soapy palms over them. He chuckled again as he found another of Cam's sensitive, ticklish spots. 

"Marking that for later too."

"You're evil."

John smirked up at him, the water hitting his face and flattening his hair. "Yes, I am an evil, blood sucking creature that has no soul, if you believe the movies."

Sensing a sudden shift in John's mood, he looked down to see that there was a shadow in John's eyes. "I don't," Cam whispered, reaching down to clasp John's shoulders and pull him up. "I don't believe any of that nonsense." He kissed John again and pulled him up against him, hugging him. Eventually, John's arms slid around Cam's waist and he settled into the hug. He took the soap and sponge out of John's hands, and lathered it behind John's back. 

He awkwardly washed every part of John that he could reach without breaking out of the hug, but finally had to step back. John let himself be handled, sighing as Cam washed his throat and neck. Apparently, he enjoyed getting attention there as much as he liked giving it. Cam filed that away for future reference.

He soaped John's shoulders, arms and hands, then knelt and began washing John's belly. He gave his groin a few token swabs with the sponge on his way to John's legs, intending to return there. John swayed on his feet a little, dropping his hands to Cam's head and shoulder for balance as Cam lifted one foot and began to wash it. When John shuddered, Cam knew he had finally found a spot. 

"Like that, do you?"

"Yeah. Who doesn't like having their feet washed?"

Cam laughed and kneaded at the ball of John's foot, which made him let out a long, low groan of pleasure. "This is more than like, Sheppard."

"Guilty, now don't stop doing that yet," he snapped as Cam continued to massage his foot firmly. John pulled his hair when he tried to set the foot down, so he continued long after John's foot was clean. Then he did the other foot and John had to sit down on the bench along the wall. 

He had such a look of sensual bliss on his face that Cam felt a jolt of desire rock him. He continued to rub John's foot for a little while longer. Then he stood and straddled John's lap, kneeling on the stone-tiled bench. "I think the Ancients must have liked sex in the shower too," he remarked, running his soapy hands and the sponge over John's chest. 

"With a shower like this? They would have been fools not to play in here. I think it was built for sex." John replied. He shifted over a few inches, taking Cam with him so that two of the jets were hitting them in very sensitive spots. 

"Put the soap down, Kitty," John whispered, biting on one of Cam's nipples. 

Cam set the soap beside them on the bench and held John's shoulders as John gripped his waist to hold him in place as he suckled on the nipple he had been playing with. Cam arched into it and reached down to grasp both of their cocks in his hand, stroking gently. John switched and did the other nipple too, paying it equal attention as Cam rocked on his lap and tugged their cocks together. 

John let go of his hip with one hand and moments later, Cam felt John's fingers, slicked with soap, running up and down the crack of his ass. It took some angling around, but he was able to insert a finger and tease at Cam's ass with one, then two fingers, slicking him up with soap. 

"Making me all clean, are you?"

"Yup. So I can get you all dirty again," John replied. "Up," he whispered, lifting on Cam's waist. Cam released his hold on their cocks and slid up as directed. John reached down between them and arranged his cock before urging Cam back down so that his cock rubbed against Cam’s ass. 

"Mmm," Cam murmured, wrapping his arms around John's neck. "I really like your shower, Sheppard."

Sheppard held his hips and guided him down until the head was at the soapy hole he had been playing with a minute before. He was letting Cam set the pace, not rushing. Cam kissed him, resuming his earlier explorations of John’s mouth, memorizing him. He spread his legs a little further apart and leaned back, pressing down until the head of John’s cock popped through his tight entrance. He gasped into John’s mouth at the intrusion. This was the downside of their rapid recuperation; everything healed up and muscles got tight again and had to be worked back to suppleness. 

“Stop?” John asked, breaking off the kiss as Cam let a whimper slip out. 

“No. Please, I want,” Cam replied, tightening his grip on John’s neck and pressing down more. 

John caught his hips and held him still. “Whoa, we’re not in a hurry. Go slow.”

He nodded and held still, giving his body time to adjust to John being inside it. John kissed him again and let one hand drift up to rub his back and neck and tangle in his hair. By the time John was scratching his scalp, Cam had relaxed and slid down to take John’s full length into him. “Twice in as many days,” he whispered to John, leaning back to look into his eyes.

“I like this... I like being with you, Cameron,” John replied, his voice cracking on his name as Cam rose up and then slid back down again. “You feel so good.”

A bunch of mushy replies ran through Cam’s mind. He had a feeling that John might not appreciate hearing them just yet. He had a feeling he had been waiting a long time to find someone like John. He had been looking in the wrong places, apparently. He’d never given the slightest thought to dating a haima. And yet here he was, with a haima balls deep in his ass and loving every moment of it. 

“John?” he whispered after a while. John was cupping Cam’s ass cheeks and helping him move up and down slowly on his cock.

“Mmm?” 

“Bite me again?”

“Huh?” John opened his eyes and stared at him.

“You’ve got all day today and tomorrow to recuperate. Bite me again... and share it with me.”

In response, John bucked up into him, making Cam gasp. “Damn, Mitchell,” he breathed. “That’s a dangerous game to play.”

Cam ran his hands over John’s chest. “I trust you. If I’m going to be bedding a haima, I want the whole thing.”

“You bonded with a dragon this morning, haven’t you played enough risky games for one day?”

“When’s the next time you’ll have two days off in a row to play like this? C’mon John, please?”

John stared up into his eyes. “Later. We’ll finish the shower first. We’ll do it later, after we eat.”

With a smile, Cam hugged him and rocked his hips forward, John buried to the hilt inside him. Eventually, John bucked his thighs and nudged at Cam’s hips with his hands. “I’m getting a little cold, get on the floor, under the water,” John told him. Cam rose up and knelt on the stone tiles, sighing as the warm water sprayed over him from four different directions. 

Kneeling behind him, John thrust into him and began moving more quickly than he had earlier. “Need to finish, “ John rasped, gripping Cam’s hips tightly. 

“Yeah, come on.” Cam bumped back to meet each thrust, water hitting their bodies and splashing all over the place. In a position that echoed the one in Cam’s office earlier, John fell over his back and wrapped his arms around Cam’s chest. He reached down and clasped Cam’s cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. He began thrusting more quickly as he reached his climax and poured into Cam’s ass. John was just going soft and withdrawing as Cam came, spilling over John’s hand. John stroked his other hand over Cam’s side as they both shuddered. 

John sat back on the floor, his back against the tile base of the bench seat. Glancing over at him, Cam turned and sat beside him. The water sprayed over them for a while as they both struggled to regain calm. “That was...” John’s voice trailed off. 

“Yeah. It was.” Cam went up on his knees, turned and reached behind John for the soap and sponge. He lathered it up and gently began to wash John again. This time, he washed everything, nudging at John until he went up on his knees and turned around to let Cam wash his back and backside. Then John seized the sponge and scrubbed Cam from head to toe. 

“I am never going to be able to look at this shower and not get a hard on. You know that?” Cam said as John took his cock in hand and carefully washed him. 

“You say something like that while you’re holding my cock? Bad, naughty Kitty!” John scolded playfully. Cam grinned at him and kissed him.

“We should do something other than sex,” Cam said as John rubbed him dry with a towel, after dragging him out from under the jets by the arm.

John nodded. Going back to the other room, he waved at the drawers holding his clothing. “I think my sweats will fit you.” Cam went through the drawers and found sweats, boxers, and t-shirt easily enough. 

“We could watch movies on the ethernet. I think Lorne said theres some new stuff on there from the databurst upload. Some comic book hero movies.”

“You like guys in spandex?”

“Don’t mock my kinks!” John replied with a grin as he picked up his laptop. “Couch?”

“Yes. I refuse to even acknowledge that thing as furniture.” Cam tilted his head towards John’s bed.

Dropping onto the couch, John ignored the dig at his bed and booted up the laptop as Cam sat down beside him, pressed close to John’s side. “This is a little weird,” Cam said as John scrolled through looking for movie.

“I was thinking the same thing, but I didn’t want to say it. I haven’t had a real relationship in a long time. And now, we’re...” John waved a hand back and forth between them.

“Yeah. We can make the rest of this work, right? I mean, we certainly have the sex thing down.” Cam met John’s eyes and whispered the troubling thought that had been crossing his mind since the previous night, when he had allowed John to bind with him. “We didn’t make a huge mistake, did we?” 

John leaned over and kissed him. “I don’t think so. I think we’ll be fine.”

The chime to the door rang. John set the laptop aside and went to open it. Stackhouse pushed past John and grinned as he waved a bag of pretzels and a six pack of beer. “I brought snacks, you guys up for a movie?”

Cam leaned over to look past Nate at John. “How did he do that?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention, he’s a pest. A mind reading, opportunistic, beer stealing pest.” John was smiling as he said it, and there was no heat behind the words so Cam took them as teasing. 

Nate bounded over and flopped on the far end of the couch, leaving room for John to settle back between them, showing that he wasn’t completely thoughtless. “Don’t believe him, Kitty. I do not steal beer. I replace everything I borrow.” He waved at the six pack as evidence to prove his statement. He tore open the bag of pretzels, took one and offered the bag to Cam as John sat down between them and sighed. 

“We are so finding you a girlfriend,” John snapped. “There has to be a clutch of First Kin out here somewhere. We’re going to find them.”

Beside him, Nate jutted out his lower lip and mock-pouted. “You don’t love me anymore. You have a boyfriend now and you have no time for me.”

“Not entirely true. I have a boyfriend, but that has not changed my feelings for you, jerk. I just happen to think that you need to get laid, you need to get laid very much. And now that there are two of us in the know about you, maybe we can seriously find a dragon dating pool out here. You need sex.”

“I can’t see the screen,” Nate replied, pointing at the laptop as he munched a pretzel and ignored John’s assessment of his sex life. 

John sighed. He closed his eyes and Cam jumped when a viewscreen like the ones in the puddlejumpers shimmered into being in front of them. Soon, the opening credits of the movie John had picked began to flicker on the screen, causing Stackhouse to applaud and whistle. 

“I take it you approve?” John said, setting the laptop down on the table in front of them. 

“Good, could you get the lights? So distracting,” Nate said as he adjusted a throw pillow behind him and settled back. 

“Yes, your majesty, whatever you say, your majesty,” John snarked, but the lights dimmed. 

“Oh, this one is good. We haven't seen this yet,” Nate said approvingly. “More pretzels, Kitty?” He extended the bag past John. With a scowl, John responded by snatching the bag and holding it in his lap so they could all share it without the passing back and forth.

Cam felt a surge of contentment as John settled against him. This was good. They could make this work.

**~*~**

When Nate attempted to start a third movie, John threw him out of his quarters. No easy task, that, John had to threaten to get naked and perform a lewd sex act on his new boyfriend to ‘persuade’ him to leave, much to Cam's amusement.

“I told you he was a pest," John told Cam as he arched his back and stretched. 

"Oh, I dunno, he wasn't that bad. Hey, how'd he pick up on the Kitty thing already?"

John twisted his lips and rolled his eyes. "His ethical code is different than mine. He has no compunctions about reading my mind whenever he's bored. I guess he lifted it off me."

Unfolding himself from the couch, Cam yawned and stretched. "So do you guys hang out often?"

"I guess, yeah. He's comfortable with me. The allaghi on base tend to pose and kiss ass a lot, trying to curry favor. He knows I don't give a shit about any of that."

"So you're friends."

"Yeah. He gets along with Teyla, Ronon and McKay too, so he turns up when they're here."

Cam's belly gave a loud rolling grumble. "Mess hall?" he asked when John looked at him. 

"Uh, yeah. I guess so. I'm going to get fat, if I keep hanging out with you."

As he walked to the door, Cam reached over and pinched John's waist, making him twist and try to dodge away. "You'll be fine."

Ronon and McKay joined them at the table in the mess hall, and McKay soon had Cam engaged in a discussion on a project he and Zelenka were working on in their off time that might have a practical application. About halfway through the conversation, Cam realized he had gone completely stupid and had no idea what McKay was talking about. He picked at the remnants of his spaghetti, stirring the cooling noodles and making designs on his plate with the sauce. 

"You done, Mitchell?" John asked, holding a hand out for his tray as he stood up suddenly. "You wanted to do that thing."

"Yeah, right. See ya later McKay, Dex," Cam pushed back from the table and gave John a grateful look for the rescue. When they were out in the hall, he caught John's elbow and whispered, "Thanks."

"No problem. You went all glassy eyed, it looked like you'd reached maximum science babble level for the day."

Cam nodded. "You hit the nail on the head. I still have no idea what he was talking about." 

When they reached the transporter, John touched the map screen to take them to the level Cam's quarters were on. "Well, when you're ready, talk to Zelenka, tell him Rodney was telling you about their thing and he'll translate into military friendly jargon."

"I'll do that." He led the way to his quarters, and he began to feel a little nervous about what he had asked John to do. Once inside, he grasped John's arm and looked into his face. "Look, maybe I shouldn't have asked..."

John touched a finger to his lips and then pressed his lips to the spot after he pulled his finger away. "You should. Ground rule. You should always ask. I want this to work, Cameron."

"Me too."

"No lies, no holding back. All in." John stroked his cheek tenderly. "Are you having second thoughts? We don't need to play anymore today, we could pop in another movie, or something."

Cam slid a hand around John's waist and pulled him close. "I want. Will it be too much for you though?"

With an elegant shrug, John tilted his head. "I have no idea, really. I rarely stayed with the coven, so I never got into the haima social things. I've only taken blood when I really needed it. I don't know what my limit is." 

"Want to find out?" Cam wasn't entirely certain why he was suggesting this. Curiosity, certainly; he wanted to know his partner's capabilities and limits. Partner. He and John were bonded. He and John and Nate Stackhouse were bonded. The suddenness of it should be bothering him, but it didn't. He was oddly calm about it, it seemed right. He kissed John's lips and gave a shimmy with his hips, rubbing against him. 

"I dunno, my boss might have kittens if I'm too hungover for work on Monday." John nipped at his neck and reached around to cup Cam's ass and give it a squeeze. 

"Very funny. For that, you get to blow me," Cam demanded, grasping John's shoulder tightly and pushing until John went down on his knees in front of him. 

John undid his jeans quickly and within a minute was sucking Cam's cock, his hands kneading his ass and pushing and pulling him into a thrusting rhythm. Cam dug his hands into John's hair and urged him to continue. "Yeah, just like that." Their afternoon shower had been slow and comfortable, this was promising to be fast and hard, John was sucking him almost to the point of pain. 

He had never been able to learn much about haima. Very little about the fernal races was documented. It was impossible to remain hidden from the rest of the world if there was written proof of the existence of fernal floating around. There was Stoker, of course, the infamous fernal that had gone and written "fiction" about fernals, mixing skills and abilities of many fernal races and lumping them under the fictional creatures he called vampires. Anything true and real he was going to learn about haima was going to have to come from John. 

"Bite me, John," he urged. "I'll be here, you can let go."

John pulled off his cock, holding and stroking it slowly in his hand as he looked up at Cam with serious consideration. "I've never taken hormones from anyone not haima."

"We're already bonded, right? What difference if the bond is stronger?"

"It will hurt you."

Cam shrugged. "If you do it and then I shift to other form, I don't think I'll feel it as much."

"I have to let my second set down to get deep enough to do this. You'll have venom in your bloodstream, Cameron. Not just saliva, venom." 

John looked away, his hand going slack on Cam's cock. He thrust his pelvis forward slightly, and when that failed to get John's attention, he reached down and grabbed his chin, forcing his head up and staring down at him. "What will the venom do to me, John?"

"It will probably make you high as a kite. We will be bonded, for good and all, permanently. That's how the coven leaders control their haima and blood puppets; they get them addicted and then ration out the venom." John ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

"And..." Cam coaxed, sensing there was more John wasn't saying. "What's the worst that could happen?

"Enough venom and you'll turn." John released his hold on Cam's dick and stood up suddenly, taking a few steps back. "Too dangerous. It's too dangerous a game, Cameron." He turned away and went to the balcony window.

Feeling a little ridiculous, Cam tucked his cock into his jeans and stalked across the room after John. "Turn? Into a haima? Wait, aren't you folks born haima?" 

"Some are. I wasn't. I was born human."

"In 1907, in Kansas. You told me that. But you left out the human bit. Tell me how, what happened? I want to understand, John." He caught John's arm when he started to walk away, holding him in place, exerting a little force when John tensed up and prepared to yank his arm from Cam’s grasp. John sighed heavily and looked at his feet, not responding. 

"John? Please. Bonded, remember? Stuck with each other? I can’t learn if you don’t teach. Please talk to me."

Softly, Sheppard began to talk. Cam had to lean in to hear him at first. "I left the farm to be a pilot, in the war. I wanted to kill nazis. I was stateside, ferrying a bomber from one base to another and we had an engineered mechanical failure, it wasn’t an accident, but I only found that out later. As the Fernal Branch planned, we crashed in Nevada. When I came to, our navigator, Pat Sheppard, was pressing a bloody gash in his arm to my mouth and ordering me to swallow."

"He was haima?"

"Yeah. He'd torn the gash with his second set of fangs and the venom was in the wound. The combination of venom and hormone in his blood started the turning. He bit me, pierced my thyroid, took blood and hormone from me as well in order to heal himself of the wounds he got in the crash. I was loaded with his venom. When I woke in the fernal hospital, I was completely turned, and thoroughly healed."

From the way John refused to look at him, and the slump of his shoulders, Cam knew that John had not been pleased with the change, not then and not now. "That's why you keep away from the others. It was forced on you.”

"I'm second class to them, I wasn't born fernal. I didn’t know anything about fernal society, I was completely in the dark back then. There's no place for me in their high-brow society anyway. I'm better off alone."

"You're not alone anymore John. You have Nate and now you're kinda stuck with me too."

"I didn’t mean for that to happen, I shouldn’t have taken your blood. I shouldn’t take more, it isn’t fair for me to risk turning you, or to bind you to me like a blood puppet. I'm sorry I bit you, Cameron."

"I'm not. I was drifting too. My family is all shifters. Allaghi is a recessive gene, I only manifested because of traumatic injuries. They love me, but I make them all nervous. Shifters are closer to human than most other fernal, I stand out everytime I go home. It isn't comfortable to go for more than a short visit anymore. That's why I took this mission."

"We're a pair, aren't we?" John mumbled, stepping closer to Cam. He reached out and pulled John into his arms, kissing the side of his head. 

He held John until he relaxed in his arms. "You make it so difficult, don't you? Just take, John. Take the comfort, take the pleasure, take what you can get. I'm offering it."

"Stop tempting me."

"Oh, just bite me already. I'm pretty damned durable."

Looking up at him, John asked, "And if you turn because of it?"

Cam brushed his knuckles across John's cheekbone and gave a shrug. "Then I change, again. And there will be two haima in the city. We'll take what comes, John."

"I can't ask this..."

"You didn't. I offered. Now, bite me already."

"You do know that you're a little crazy?"

Cam laughed as John took his hand and led him to the bedroom. He let John remove his radio, sneakers and clothing and push him, naked, down onto the bed. John then stripped out of his own clothes and straddled Cam. He stopped suddenly and looked at the pair of radios he had dropped onto the nightstand. He crawled across Cam to pick one up and stick it in his ear. 

"Sheppard to Beckett," he said. Cam smiled and eavesdropped on the one side of the conversation he could hear as John talked to the doctor. "Yeah, hey Carson. I just wanted to be sure you were around tonight. I’m playing a little rough, I just thought I'd give you a heads up, just in case, like I promised I would. As careful as I can be. No, I don't want to tell you. Okay. Yeah. Thanks." He dropped the radio back on the nightstand.

"Well?" Cam asked. 

John smirked. "He's on call."

"You aren't going to hurt me." 

"You can't be sure of that!" 

"You. Won't. Hurt. Me."

Scooting down to kneel between Cam's knees, John leaned in and pressed kisses to Cam's belly and hip as he took his flaccid cock in hand and began to stroke him. Cam let him fall back into the mood without saying anything for a long while as John stroked and sucked him. 

He stared at John and then asked him, "What will it do to you? Taking hormones as opposed to just blood?"

“It’s an intense high, from what I've heard. It supposedly permanently bumps up the skillset. I'll always know where you are, within a particular range. I might be able to read your mind and emotions completely, the way Stacks reads me."

"And to me?"

"It'll hurt at first, but I think the venom will make you loopy too. It's like a double orgasm, according to the people I've spoken to about it."

Releasing Cam's cock, John sat back on his heels and closed his eyes. Cam winced when he saw John's look of pain as he let his fangs slide down, then he bent forward, pressing his forehead to Cam's belly, panting and holding tightly to his hips.

"John?"

He didn't look up, so John's answer was muffled. "Hurts. Damn, that hurts. I hate this part."

Cam rubbed the top of his head, the only thing he could reach with John hunched over him as he was. "This is not sexy, Mitchell. I do not find this at all sensual or attractive, just so you know!" When he looked up at Cam, his eyes were shimmering with pain and unshed tears. 

"Come up here," Cam ordered softly, opening his arms. Hesitating momentarily, John quickly scrambled up to press against Cam. 

"How could you possibly want this?" John mumbled.

"I wasn’t seeking it, John. But if it comes with having you, then it comes." Cam rubbed his back. "My life hasn't been what I wanted or expected for a long time. I'm tired of being alone. Since we’re stuck with each other, I want all in."

John nuzzled his nose against Cam's neck. Cam tried to ignore his raging hard on that was begging for attention as John began to suck on his neck, breathing heavily. John's hands drifted down, catching Cam's and their fingers intertwined. He heard John sigh and then felt a sharp pain as John's fangs pierced his skin. 

"I thought you were going to bite... not there..." Cam gasped as John shifted position and the first set of fangs pierced deeper as the second, sharper set sank in. John's hand was at the back of Cam's head, holding him in place. He felt the burn of haima venom as John bit into his thyroid gland and the fluid came through his fangs. 

He felt something weird in his head, like a vibration, which turned into a tickle. _*Hold still!*_ John's voice was suddenly in his mind, as clear as if he had been speaking aloud. _*I don't want to hurt you. Please don't move, Cameron.*_

"Okay, I won’t move. It's not so bad, you aren't hurting me, John. I can take it," he whispered as John's other hand pressed down on his chest. 

_*You can hear me?*_ There was confusion in the question, which was now stronger, directed at him. John had gone very still, his lips pressed to the wound he had made in Cam's throat. 

He answered in his head, to see what would happen. _*Yeah.*_

_*Well, that's something anyway,*_ John replied and then sucked hard on his skin as he slid the fangs in even deeper. _*I hate this,*_ John complained.

Cam moved his hands up and kneaded at the muscles near John's shoulder blades. The burn started to get intense and he had to fight back the urge to thrash around to get away from the source of the pain. 

Suddenly, he felt a searing pain in his mind, there was an influx of information and it was as if he was watching a slideshow, a video montage of images on a screen in his mind. The flashing changed and he wasn't seeing images, but memories. Not his own memories. He knew what he was seeing had to be coming from John. He was in the cockpit of an old plane, flying over cornfields. Then the ground was surging up at the windscreen and he felt the crazy end over end tumble of a crash. God, he was reliving it all with John. He felt John's distress as the memories washed over both of them.

Seeing through blurred vision, a veil of haze, he felt the pain of life threatening injuries, a body broken in dozens of places. Then he experienced the burn as Patrick Sheppard held John and forced his blood into him. He could feel John's revulsion, could hear his mind screaming out in denial of the horror at what was happening to him. He could feel John’s grief as his humanity was burned away by the haima blood. Then blackness, followed by waves of emotions coming from John in the here and now. He was at war with himself, wanting to take and fighting his desires at the same time, fighting with his nature. Above all, guilt, recrimination and self loathing.

"You aren't forcing me, John," Cam reassured him, stroking his back as he otherwise remained still in John's arms. Cam's body was on fire. This was much different than when John had taken that single mouthful of his blood the previous night. This was more, this was John giving back, not just taking from him. He felt as if he were on the edge of shifting to other form, he could feel changes happening within his body. He began to suspect that John's fears had been well founded, they might have crossed a line. 

Fight against it or embrace it? Try to remain as he was, an allaghi? Or let John’s haima venom and blood change him? Answering to Stackhouse as the leader of the city's cartel would be difficult in the future, given his rank. He had been human for most of his life, he had not grown up with fernal abilities. He had changed suddenly once and adapted pretty well. Surely he could do it again. 

This time, he would have a partner, someone else that was in some ways the same as he was. Silently, he bid his other form goodbye, prepared for the changes that he suspected were coming, willing to stop being allaghi and be haima, like John, with John. 

John began to lift his head and Cam felt a building need for something undefined. He craved. "John..." he gasped. Then in his mind he begged, _*I need... I need something.*_

_*Shit. Damn it, I knew this would happen!*_ John swore mentally. He had a hand pressed to the wound he had made in Cam's throat, applying pressure until his saliva could force the wounds to heal over. His eyes were bleak with regret. 

With a sob, Cam reached up and caressed his cheek. _*Stop blaming yourself. I guess this craving I have is for blood?*_

John closed his eyes and Cam felt his presence fully in his mind, exploring, moving through him, examining him. Then John nodded. _*I'm so sorry, Cameron.*_

"Don't be." In a moment of illogic, he realized that he kind of liked the way John always called him Cameron, instead of Cam like everyone else. 

_*How can you be so calm?*_

Cam gave him what he hoped was a brave smile. "Because you're right here." 

_*Stop that. This is not fucking romantic, Mitchell! I probably just changed you into a blood-sucking fiend!*_ Opening his mouth to reveal both sets of fangs, John put his wrist to his teeth and bit into it piercing the skin, then turned his arm and pressed it to Cam's lips. _*Drink, asshole.*_

He gave a tentative suck and thick blood dripped onto his tongue. It was salty and tasted sour. He had his eyes open and looked at John as he drew more. Bitter. He blinked at John. 

"That's the venom," John said, his voice sounding different as he spoke around the double set of fangs. "Keep sucking until it runs clear and doesn't taste vile anymore."

He whole body began to ache as every muscle tenses simultaneously. "John?" he blinked back tears as the pain began to increase. 

John slid his free arm under him and pulled him up as close as he could while keeping his wrist pressed to Cam's lips. _*I've got you. When I turned, I remember feeling pain, then cold, then heat before I blacked out.*_

He was feeling the same kind of pain he remembered from John's memories, all over, intense, like nothing he had ever felt before. It was like being turned inside out, cell by cell, organ by organ.

_*Your body is converting. You're turning, Cameron. I'm sorry.*_ John hugged him and kissed his forehead. 

_*Stop apologizing.*_ Shivering overtook him. He was like ice. His stomach started to hurt and he pulled back a little, turning his face away from John's wrist. 

John lifted his hand from the wound at his throat, looked him over and then reached for the blanket, pulling it over them. Then he wrapped both arms around Cam, holding him close. _*Take more, if you can. I think it will help, you might sleep through the rest of the changeover.*_ He offered his wrist again and Cam closed his mouth over the two holes there and sucked hard, swallowing the blood that poured into his mouth.

"I don't feel like sex anymore," he told John as he pushed his arm away a few minutes later. "I really don't feel like sex."

John laughed and tightened his arms. "Me either. I'm a little freaked out by this whole thing." His voice sounded normal again, so Cam assumed he had withdrawn his fangs.

Cam settled against John's chest, not feeling as cold as he had been. "Statistically, the best marriages start out with the couple being friends first, you know." 

"We aren't married, Mitchell."

"No, but we might as well be, with the bond between us."

John snorted. "I'd SO unbite you, if I could."

"I feel warm and sleepy," Cam mumbled, closing his eyes and relaxing into John's arms. 

"Then sleep, dumbass. What the hell am I going to do with you?"

Yawning broadly, Cam offered, "Teach me to be haima?"

"I guess I'll have to."

"At least we'll grow old together now. I was going to die and leave you alone. That made me sad." He closed his eyes and let his mind drift. He didn't feel very good, and everything hurt, but John had him, so it would be okay.

**~*~**

The lights were dancing overhead, so John told Atlantis to turn them off. The fewer things to feed his senses, the better. There was the constant hum of the city and the waves beyond the balcony, but the sound was not overwhelming him. His body was tingling, from scalp to toenails. He could hear the blood pumping through Cam's body beside him.

 _*John, what the hell did you do?*_ Nate demanded, his mental voice a combination of irritation, amusement and curiosity. _*You guys are all over the place, you’re giving me a headache.*_

Caught off guard, John didn't mask his emotions or try to disseminate. He answered honestly. _*Fed again, straight from the gland.*_

Now there was astonishment in Stackhouse's reply. _*Dude! Are you insane?*_

_*A little, I think, yeah. I ruined things, Nate. I fucked up.*_

Stackhouse snapped at him, _*Don't you dare cry, Rider mine. I swear, I cannot handle crying men. Is Mitchell still there?*_

_*Yeah.*_

_*Do I need to send a medical team?*_

Stackhouse was such a good friend. _*No, he's just sleeping. Can't you sense him?*_

_*Not anymore, which is why I am talking to you. Are you sure he's ok, Sheppard?*_

John stroked a hand over Cam's head, feeling each hair as it tickled across his palm. _*No. Not anymore. I turned him.*_

_*You...? Fuck, John! I'm coming down there.*_

It was late. And Cam seemed okay. And John didn’t feel like dealing with Nate at the moment. _*No. Don't. He's just sleeping. I rushed things, Nate.*_

_*I'm not arguing with you on that. Damn, I'm getting buzzed off your mental fumes, Sheppard.*_

John didn't respond to that. After a while he asked, _*What do I do now?*_

_*I have no idea. I guess we just make the best of it. Help him through the adjustment. I have to block you out right now, John. I'm on duty tomorrow and I need to sleep. Radio me if you need me, okay?*_

_*Okay. Goodnight. You're a good friend, Nate.*_

_*I try. Goodnight, John. Try to sleep.*_ It was if a switch had been flipped, one moment, Nate was there and in the next, John couldn't feel him at all. For the first time in all the years since they had bonded, Nate was deliberately blocking him, keeping them separated. John felt a bit bereft. He hugged Mitchell closer. 

Every once in awhile, Cam let out a little groan and twisted in John's arms, but for the most part, he slept pretty soundly over the next few hours as John alternated between drowning in sensory overload and mentally beating himself up for what he had let himself be talked into. It was hard to think straight, he was almost overcome by the hormones and blood coursing through him, and his senses were too sharp. 

Mentally, he kept coming back to the same point; no matter what Cam said, John knew he had rushed into this. He should have waited. He had let bloodlust rule his head, not just once, but twice. 

And now Cam was paying the price, he was haima now, there was no undoing what had been done tonight. John had not scented another of his kind in years, not since long before the first Atlantis Expedition. His nose was filled with haima now, pressed against him, breathing against his neck. He was totally and completely responsible for changing Cam's life, in the same way Patrick Sheppard had changed his. Would Cameron end up hating him the way John had come to hate Patrick?

"It is not all your fault, stop feeling so guilty," Cam mumbled and gave John's shin a thump with his foot. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine!"

Cam pushed away from him and sat up. He weaved in place for a moment, throwing a hand out to balance himself on John's shoulder. "Whoa. Spinny." He let out a laugh. "I can see in the dark!"

John watched as Cam held his hands out in front of him and turned them back and forth waggling his fingers. "Yeah, haima night vision. Better than military issued goggles, huh?" 

"You sound drunk, John. You're slurring your words."

"I am. But I like blood better. It doesn't feel as good as I anticipated, taking hormones like that."

"No?"

"No. My stomach hurts. I don't want to move, I'm afraid I'm going to throw up if I do."

Cam leaned in and stroked a hand over his cheek. "Do you want me to call Doctor Beckett?"

Shaking his head, John squeezed his eyes shut, the room was, as Cam had said, spinny. "No." Beckett liked to lecture. He didn’t want a lecture.

"My stomach hurts too. And I'm dizzy." Cam flopped down beside him, jostling the mattress. John let out a groan. 

"Shit! I'm stupid. I'm feeling your symptoms." John rubbed a hand over his forehead. The blood and hormone high was making him dumb. Like Nate, he was being affected by Cam's physical state through their bond. He was about to block Cam out, as Nate had done to him earlier, but he realized he wouldn't know what was going on with him if he did that, and he was responsible for Cam, he had done this to him.

He reached an arm out and pulled Cam up against him. "Be a good kitty and lie still. You're making the world spin."

Cam grasped his hand and slid it down to his middle. "Rub my belly?" His coordination was a little off at first, but John found a pattern and rubbed his palm across the warm skin in circles. When Cam purred, he smiled and kissed the back of his head. He fell asleep holding Mitchell.

When he woke, the sun was making the room unbearably bright. He yelped and fumbled a hand around to find a pillow, which he dragged over his face. He was alone in the bed. The daytime city noise was unbearable loud. 

"Head still bad?" Cam asked quietly, his hand touching John's arm very lightly. 

"It's going to explode," he said into the pillow. 

Cam patted his hip and pulled the blanket aside, letting in a cool draft. "Roll over. Doctor Beckett left some stuff that should help." Keeping the pillow pressed tightly to his face, John moved and a moment later he smelled alcohol, felt a cool swipe on his skin and then the pinch of a needle in his butt cheek. 

"What is that?"

"A cocktail. The doc was a bit put out that you didn't call him when you figured out what happened to me." Cam rubbed his ass and then dragged a blanket over him. 

In his defense, he had been, and still was, inebriated. John pulled the pillow away and squinted up at Cam, who seemed perfectly normal. "Kitty, how are you functional?"

"I didn't suck down any unfiltered hormones last night. And Beckett dosed me with some stuff to ease the transition."

Mental speech didn't hurt as much. _*So you're okay?*_

_*I'm fine, John,*_ came the instant reply. Mitchell wasn't lying, it was virtually impossible to lie when sharing thoughts directly. John's worry eased slightly. _*Stackhouse came by and checked me over when Doc Beckett was through. Stop worrying, John.*_

_*You're going to hate me, when this all settles down.*_

Cam grabbed his foot through the blanket and squeezed it, giving it a shake. "Who knew you were such a drama queen? Knock it off. I've been testing my senses, and so far, I don't feel too much different than I did when I was in other form. Enhanced scent, strength, and hearing. My vision is different though, that is taking some getting used to. The auras spooked me until Stacks told me what it was I was seeing."

The drugs started to take effect, and John was able to pull the pillow away and hug it to his chest. Cam’s aura was a healthy, swirling purple and blue. "Hey Kitty? Try something for me?"

"What?"

"Try to shift. I want to know what happens, now that you're haima. How your allaghi physiology or what’s left of it affects things."

Cam tilted his head and looked at John, then he nodded. "Okay." He squeezed his eyes shut. A moment later they flew open and he breathed, "Holy shit."

John sat up, concerned as Cam’s aura suddenly took on red and orange swirls. He teetered and nearly fell over as his head swam. "What?"

"Wait," Cam replied and closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. As John watched, Cam began to shift into leonine form. Muscles rippled and lengthened, tawny fur appeared on his skin and his face changed into the lion-like one John had only seen once before. When the change was complete, Cam loomed at the foot of the bed, panting heavily, fully in his other form. 

"This is impossible," John whispered, walking to the end of the bed on his knees. He put a hand out to touch Cam's chest. "You're still the same kitty, Kitty."

A somewhat astonished Mitchell was holding his arms out in front of him, turning them and looking at his shifted form. "Well I'll be. Has anyone ever turned an allaghi before?"

John shrugged and fell back on the bed, sure that he was smiling like an idiot. "Damned if I know. I don't talk to the family much, and no one but a Stoker ever writes things down." He watched Cam stride back and forth, flexing his muscles, doing a thorough self examination. John grinned as a random thought occurred to him. *Hey, I bet you can even give Ronon a run for the money now. I can almost take him - but you can pound him into the mat for sure!*

"You are still under the influence, you're being goofy."

"I'm off duty today, remember? I'm allowed to be goofy. You don't hate me?" 

Hate him? Cam looked from his fur covered hands over at John, sprawled naked on his bed. How was he going to convince John that he was okay with this? He strode over to the bed and leaned over, brushing his nose and whiskers across John's cheek. Then he rubbed his head against his neck, purring loudly when John turned his face and rubbed his nose into his fur. 

Kisses were awkward in this form, the rubbing would have to do. "I won't hate you, John. I like you, a lot," he rumbled, his voice deeper in timbre when he was in this form. 

John's eyes were very glassy and unfocused. He reached up with both hands and scratched Cam's ears. When he began to shiver, Cam gathered him close and carefully pulled him down onto the mattress, reaching for the blanket to pull it over both of them. "Close your eyes and count sheep, Sheppard. You've OD'd on Mitchell goodness. You need to sleep it off."

“I don’t like taking hormones, I’m not doing that anymore,” he vowed in a small voice. "I was hoping for horny and another day of wild sex. I've gotten a sick headache instead," John complained as he snuggled in and let Cam hold him. 

"Maybe later you can have your way with me."

John yawned and stopped fighting the need to rest. "Stay in this form until I wake up?"

"Sure. You sleep for a while."

The emotions coming off John as he settled down and did as Cam suggested were much lighter than they had been. It seemed that Cam's ability to shift into his allaghi form, despite being turned haima had relieved Sheppard of some of the mental weight that had been burdening him.

**~*~**

Nate sat in the mess hall, close to the door, waiting for Mitchell to turn up. He wanted to talk to him, had tried to talk to him twice since John had turned him. The morning after, Mitchell had been loopy as all hell and incapable of carrying on a conversation. His second day as a haima he had spent working, closed up in his office, dealing with Ladon Radim and the issues that had come along with the influx of Genii refugees.

As for John, Nate was still actively blocking his thoughts and emotions. His Rider was currently ensconced in Mitchell's darkened quarters, avoiding contact with people and swearing up and down never to "do hormones" again. Just the bleed out over the edges from the overload was too much for Nate to take, he was surprised John could communicate at all. 

Thus, he had no idea how his friend was faring. _*How's John?*_ he asked as soon as Colonel Mitchell walked through the doors of the mess hall with Major Lorne at his heels. 

Mitchell's step didn't falter at the touch of Nate's mind. It had been a test, to see what his reaction would be at the mental ambush. Nate was old and easily bored, he liked amusing himself with little things like that. 

_*He's still sleeping. He won't eat. I'm giving him one more day before I haul him off to the infirmary for an IV.*_ Mitchell walked past him with a nod of greeting then headed off to get some food. He returned with a tray and he and Lorne sat at the table, Mitchell taking the seat directly across from Nate.

_*And how are you?*_ Nate asked telepathically, then turned to nod at Lorne. "Hello Major."

"Stackhouse.” He nodded in greeting. “How's the chili?"

"Canned," he replied, pulling a face, which Lorne mimicked as he stirred the cup on his tray and regarded it with open hostility.

Mitchell answered him as Nate watched Lorne attack the chili. _*I'm okay. The vision thing is still a little freaky, I never knew there was a whole spectrum of colors I wasn't seeing.*_ The best part about a telepathic conversation at lunch was that you could talk with your mouthful and still be understood. Mitchell chewed his sandwich as he answered Stackhouse's question. _*Are you still keeping John out?*_

_*Yeah, I was getting a migraine. There's sharing and there's over sharing. I'm gonna leave this particular experiment in fernal dynamics and tolerances all to Sheppard.*_

_*He misses you. He hasn't said it in so many words, but every time he wakes up he mentions that he doesn't feel you and that it's weird.*_

Nate nodded. He felt the absence of his Rider acutely. *Yeah, I know the feeling.* 

With a snort, Lorne stared across the table at Nate and then glared at Mitchell. "No fair, you guys are head talking."

"Sorry, that is kinda rude, isn't it? What's come out of the interviews with the Genii civilians, anything of note?" Cam asked Lorne.

The question seemed to mollify the Major's pique at being left out of the other conversation. Quietly, though there was no one within hearing distance, Lorne told them, "It might be the Pegasus version of stoicheo, based on the accounts of what people saw and the way things went down."

That caught Stackhouse's attention. "Wings, water, dirt or fire?" 

"It might be all of the above, given the way some of the houses were destroyed. Inexplicable fires, sudden bursts of wind and a few flooded out, all without storms or apparent cause."

Nate leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "It makes sense. Historically, when there's been a major desecration of their land, stoicheo have attempted to make repairs." 

"Yeah, ecological disasters bring them out of the woodwork," Mitchell agreed. "And Genii is a mess after years of irresponsible radiation experimentation."

Lorne leaned in over the table. "I'm surprised there are any fernal still on the planet, honestly." 

In the years since coming to Pegasus, they had learned that Pegasus boasted a population of fernal that was quite possibly larger than the human population, the various societies having gone underground to avoid the war between the Ancients and the Wraith. On most of the planets they had visited, the fernal races were more segregated than on Earth and rarely communicated with each other. 

John had arranged the Gate Teams years ago so that each had at least one allaghi, since of any of their fernal population, the allaghi had the best chance of sniffing out any fernal that might be within range of the Stargate. Thus far, in five years, they had only been able to establish frequent contact with three eneio of galpen, the Pegasus equivalent to their allaghi cartels. 

"What do we do about the Genii homeworld, Colonel?" Stackhouse asked.

Tapping his chin with one finger, Mitchell considered the question. "I think maybe we should send Lorne and AG-2 to investigate."

Lorne grinned. "Let Boom-Boom try to talk to her Pegasus cousins?" 

"If any of our people has even a remote chance of coaxing these Genii elementals out, it's Cadman," Stackhouse said with an approving nod.

"Then we have a plan. Back to the grind for us, Lorne, I'll talk to you later, Nate," Mitchell said as he collected his empty tray and left the table. 

Stackhouse waved to them. _*Later, Kitty.*_

**~*~**

Still dressed in his off world gear, Lorne rushed into Mitchell's office, dancing from foot to foot in excitement as he stood in front of Mitchell's desk.

"What?" Cam asked finally, finishing typing his thought and saving his document.

The major held up something wrapped in gauzy rags and then passed it over the desk to him. "I traded one of the stoicheo for that."

"So you made contact?" Cam asked as he unwrapped the fabric. 

"Yup. Just as we had thought, several clans of them banded together to try to clean up the mess the humans made of Genii. Cadman even shifted form to show off her wings. I think she was enjoying the attention of their fire makers." When Cam looked up, Lorne amended, "Their young, healthy, single, quite pretty, male fire makers."

Cam laughed at Lorne's emphasis on the words single and male. The object he revealed was a pouch, made up of several pieces of a hard shell-like material, held together by rings drilled through holes at the edges. He opened it to see that it was lined with a canvas-like material. Quite sturdy as well as being ornate. The plates, when Cam tilted the pouch in the overhead light,were an overall greenish-brown color and had an iridescent sheen to them. His new haima enhanced vision let him see swirls and variations of other colors on the surface.

His new senses told him something else. He looked up at Lorne in surprise. "These pieces came off a living creature."

"I wondered if you would be able to figure that out." Lorne had been let in on Cam's change in physiology, one of only a handful of people that had known Cam's form before, Cam had felt it prudent to let him know about the change. 

"What is it?"

"If the guy I traded with can be believed, that is made from the scales of a creature that we would have called First Kin." 

_*Stackhouse, come to my office, Lorne brought back something you should see,*_ Cam called, letting the urgency seep into his words.

_*On my way.*_

Cam turned the pouch over in his hands, running his finger over the smooth texture of the hard plates. He raised it to his nose and sniffed, but only got a hint of something herbal that might have been carried within the pouch. "Did he tell you how he came by the pouch?"

"He traded for it, with stoicheo travelers, a few years ago. If this is true, do you know what this means, Colonel? It means that it's possible that all the First Kin didn't die out in Pegasus like they did back home!" Lorne's eyes were shining with excitement. If only he knew the truth! But Stackhouse's secret was not Cam's to share. "There could be dragons out here somewhere, Colonel!"

Inexperienced in judging the age of scents, even using allaghi skills, Cam couldn't be sure if the scales in his hand were a decade old or a century old. "I'm not sensing any emotional resonance off this."

"The guy didn't seem particularly attached to it, he traded it quickly enough for a box of graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows and a six pack of Hershey bars."

Stackhouse came into the office in time to hear the last of Lorne's words. "You traded s'mores for something?"

With a grin, Lorne tipped his head towards the object in Mitchell's hands. "Yeah, a stoicheo with a sweet tooth gave me that."

Holding up the pouch, Mitchell waggled it. “Your opinions on this, please?” He somewhat reverently passed it over to the First Kin. 

"Oh, wow!" Stackhouse breathed, running a hand over the scales. When he looked over at Cam, there was astonishment in his eyes and Cam felt an upsurge of hope through their bond. "Drakon," he whispered with longing. 

Lorne nodded excitedly. "That is what the guy said. He called them chimarie. But from the description, it sure as hell sounded like a dragon to me."

"These are from two different adult females, old ones, judging by the thickness and color. Probably related, since the colors are almost the same. Maybe sisters, or a mother and daughter." 

Cam tilted his head and asked, "Color?"

"Females are almost always a color that can blend in for camouflage. It's the males that come in technicolor." He grinned and bounced the pouch in his hand.

Stackhouse held the pouch to his nose and inhaled just as Cam had done. "Ten, maybe twelve years shed, not more than that," Nate said with a small smile. In a quick motion that Cam almost missed, Nate's tongue darted out and he licked across the three scales that made up the pouch. "These were shed naturally, there was no trauma, it was taken from a live drakon, not a corpse, and not with violence. There would be negative resonance, were that the case."

Standing stock-still, Lorne's jaw had dropped and he was staring at Stackhouse in amazement. Cam warned Nate, _*You're outing yourself, Nate. Our Lorne isn't a fool, he's going to put two and two together any second now.*_

Nate nodded. _*John's been after me to tell him anyway. He trusts him. It's just hard to break the habit. That would make five people that know about me, all in one place. And two learning in the space of one week. I think it has been at least a hundred years since I've had that many confidants at once.*_

Aloud, Nate said, "Twelve years is the blink of an eye to a drakon. These are probably still alive somewhere. We have to find out where these scales came from and find the drakon."

"How do you know all that, Nate? I've been obsessed with First Kin since I was a kid, I couldn't have told you any of that information off the top of my head like you just did."

Nate smirked. "Family secret."

"I'll trade you a tracking on that pouch for the secret," Lorne pointed to the scale bag.

Nate's eyes almost bugged out of his head. "You can track from this? You can find the drakon that dropped these scales?"

Lorne reached out and took the pouch and gave Stackhouse a confident grin. "I always find what I'm looking for. The planet the stoicheo traders came from is called Ismenos. I'm sure we can find it in the Ancient database and get a Gate address."

"If not, Ronon might have heard of it," Cam added.

"I never thought to see the day," Nate said quietly, shaking his head as he stared at the pouch in Lorne's hand. 

"What day?" Lorne asked.

Stackhouse gave Evan a wide smile. "When I'd meet another drakon." 

"You're... are you trying to tell me that you're First Kin?"

Nate nodded. "Yeah, I was trying to tell you exactly that. So do we have a trade? I'd really like to find these Pegasus drakon."

Wide-eyed, Lorne nodded. "I thought your people were... gone."

"Almost. There are only nine left on Earth that I know of, all of us males, the last female died on the nest seven years ago. There hasn't been a hatching in two centuries. Once we ruled the skies, and now, we hide."

"I'm sorry," Lorne whispered.

"So am I. I would be in your debt, Major, if you could lead me to some others." Stackhouse swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I'm going to go check on John. I'll see you later." 

Stackhouse turned and left the room, and Cam sensed that he was attempting to squelch down a variety of powerful emotions. _*Hey, you okay?*_

_*Yeah, just trying not to get my hopes up, you know?*_

Cam understood. _*Yeah. I have faith in Lorne's ability as a vreite. If there are others out there he will find them, now that he has the scent in his nose, or his head, however his skills work. Hey, if you can get John to wake up, see if you can get him to eat something.*_

There was humor in Nate's reply. _*I'll do that, I'll bring bacon and wave it under his nose. Even John can't resist bacon.*_

_*Can I ask you something?*_

_*Sure, Kitty, hit me.*_

_*The whole sacrificial virgins thing? Did that really happen? Did First... drakon eat virgins?*_

More humor. _*Nah. Unless they were virgin pigs. As I just told you, very few creatures can resist bacon.*_

**~*~**

"Ow," John complained when Cam opened the door to his quarters and strode in, bouncing a tuna salad sandwich wrapped in cellophane in his hand. "Light."

"How much longer are you going to hibernate in here? It's been four days, Sheppard. Get up and eat, I brought you a sandwich." He stood at the foot of the bed and waited. If John didn't get up, he was dragging him down off the mattress, throwing him over one shoulder and taking him to the infirmary.

John sat up and gave him the stink eye, apparently reading his thoughts. "That won't be necessary. I'm up, damn it. I'm fine, I don't need to see Carson." 

"Finally." Cam tossed the sandwich at him. Nodding in approval when John opened the wrapper and began to eat. "How much longer before you'll be up to working, Sheppard? I need you on this away mission."

Swallowing the bite in his mouth, John rolled his shoulders. "I can be ready now. What mission?" 

"While you've been up here with the covers over your head, the rest of us have been following up on leads about the drakon. Teyla and Ronon concur about the place to start, the planet we think is Ismenos. I want you with Lorne on this, I've heard he can get a little spacey when he's following a trail and I don't want anything to happen to him, especially on a mission for personal reasons, like this one happens to be."

Nodding in agreement, John smirked lightly. "Yeah, he walks into walls when he zones out on a hunt. I'll be fine, dark sunglasses and Excedrin should get me through."

Relieved, Cam patted John's arm. "That's what I wanted to hear. You can sleep late tomorrow, the mission is scheduled to leave at eleven."

Sheppard stretched his arms up over his head and yawned dramatically. "Well, now I'm up, you made me force my head clear of the fuzz. Do I need to go to my office to do paperwork or anything?"

"No, Lorne and I covered you, your desk is pretty clear. You've been on sick leave, so you have the rest of the day."

The edge of John's lip crooked up and he gave Cam a heated look. "Do you have to go back to work?"

Moving over to stand in front of John, Cam gave a dramatic sniff. His sense of smell had increased exponentially since the turn and John had been in bed for two solid days. He wasn't exactly fresh as a daisy. "I can be done for the day, if you want to go and shower." That seemed to motivate John, he wolfed down the rest of the sandwich in two bites and headed for the door.

"You coming?" He gave Cam an inviting look from the doorway.

"No, I'm spoiled now. My shower is way too small for playing and will never be as satisfying as yours. You go and get cleaned up, I'll wait here. I showered after my workout earlier." Cam waved a hand in dismissal and John darted into the bathroom.

Cam eyed the bed, wondering if he should change the sheets. _*We're only gonna mess them up again, leave them, we'll change them later.*_ John said directly into his head.

_*Okay, that is starting to freak me out a little; how you're just listening to my thoughts,*_ Cam complained.

_*I can't help it, you're broadcasting directly into my head, Kitty.*_

He stripped out of his uniform and threw himself across the mattress. _*So, how do I tone it down? I would like to have the option to carry on a normal conversation with you.*_

Cam rolled his eyes as Nate butted into the conversation. _*The easiest way is to visualize a wall. The process of building it, focusing on putting each brick or stone into place will help you to strengthen it.*_

_*Damn it, are you listening in too?*_ Cam grabbed a pillow and punched it in irritation.

_*Sorry, Kitty, you've been wildly entertaining after centuries of quiet in my head. I figured John would school you properly when he got his ass out of bed.*_ Despite the perfunctory apology, Stackhouse didn't sound the slightest bit repentant. 

Now John entered the conversation and for the first time, Cam had a taste of what life was going to be like, being bonded to the two of them. _*He isn't repentant. He has no shame. He's a friggin' Peeping Tom. Tune out, Nate, we're gonna mess around and I don't feel like listening to your mental censure of my lifestyle.*_

_*When did I ever???*_ Nate replied indignantly, and with volume. 

_*Ewww, stop. I don't want to know this, Sheppard. Would you stop looking at his ass?*_ John retorted, apparently repeating things Nate had said in the past, making Cam smile.

_*Oh, shut up and teach your pussycat to block properly,*_ Stackhouse said, and Cam felt the sudden absence as Nate blocked them out from his end.

A few minutes later, John came out of the bathroom naked, running a towel over his head. He smiled when he saw Cam lying there nude, waiting. "So we're going to mess around, are we?" Cam asked him with a grin.

John stopped short and gaped. "I took a shower, I thought you wanted to... hey! I can’t read you anymore."

Cam tapped the side of his head. "Building a wall. I'd prefer to know when people were going to be sifting through my thoughts." 

Kneeling beside him, John rubbed a hand over his head. "You mad?"

"Not really, just a little embarrassed that it was happening."

"I didn't dig deep into your head. I can't speak for Nosy Nellie Nate, but I only listened to the stuff you were shouting too loud for me to ignore." He had a very contrite look on his face as he scratched Cam's scalp. Cam leaned into the touch, and managed to squelch a purr. 

"I can't complain too loudly about something that I was doing; I was partially at fault too. I didn’t know I was broadcasting. Now that I know, I'll try to keep stuff to myself. We can talk about it later. Make it up to me now, for not telling me what I was doing." He was rubbing John's bare arm and shoulder. 

John leaned over and took hold of Cam's rigid cock and stroked it a few times then closed his lips over and took him in, bobbing up and down and teasing the skin with his tongue. _*Lie back and take it,*_ John told him. 

He didn't argue, he sagged back on the bed and let John pleasure him with his mouth, proving that the first time he had done it with such satisfying results had not been a fluke or aberration. Cam buried his hands in John's hair and bucked up into his mouth, shouting and squirming on the bed as John sucked him and jerked him in time with the motion of his tongue on Cam's shaft. His vision exploded in a rainbow of color as he climaxed.

By the time John was done working him over, Cam was drained and sprawled out in boneless abandon on the bed. When John rocked back on his heels and grinned at him smugly, Cam threw a pillow at him.

**~*~**

"This is where the market usually is, when I have come here in the past," Teyla said, waving her hand at the large clearing as they came out of the trees after walking the trail that led from the Gate.

Adjusting his sunglasses, John looked around, disappointed. "Nobody here now."

"It is not yet time for the harvest," Teyla replied. "The people will not come for several months."

Turning a circle, Lorne had his eyes squeezed shut, his forehead creased in concentration. 

"Anything?" Ronon said, standing close at Lorne's shoulder. Mitchell had asked him to keep a close eye on Evan while he worked with his fernal senses, and he was taking the request seriously. 

"Maybe we should have brought a jumper," John remarked. "Done a flyover."

That provoked a grunt and frown from Lorne. "I can't sense anything from the jumper."

"Well, you can't sense anything if there isn't anyone around for hundreds of miles, now can you?" John snapped, rubbing at his forehead. The sunlight was bright.

_*If you're going to be snippy, we can do this without you. It was Mitchell's idea for you to come. I don't need you along pissing in my bowl of happy cornflakes,*_ Stackhouse shifted his P-90 and glared at John. 

John met Nate's glare and then turned to Lorne, contrite. "Sorry, Evan. I'm still a little out of sorts, I guess. Can you sense anything?"

"Tickles. No definite direction yet,” Lorne shrugged after nodding in acceptance of Sheppard’s apology. “I thought maybe there might be a trail, but it’s too old, it’s been too long since anyone was here, the auras have all degraded away to almost nothing.

Stackhouse sighed and began shrugging out of his pack. “Ever ridden a horse, Lorne?”

“Yeah, when I was a kid I went on some pony rides at the carnival.”

Stripping off his jacket, Stackhouse dropped it on top of his pack, then sat on the ground and began unlacing his boots. “I wouldn't worry, Sheppard won’t let you fall.”

“Let me fall?” Lorne’s eyebrows went up in surprise as he realized why Stackhouse was stripping out of his clothing. “You’re going to shift, here?”

Sheppard hauled Stackhouse up by the arm and clad only in his boxers, Nate smirked at the Major. “Well, you can’t track from a ‘jumper and obviously, we need to cover a lot of ground, if you're going to do your thing.”

“I don’t know about this,” Lorne said, taking a step backwards and bumping into Ronon. 

“I won’t let you fall,” John said, reiterating Nate’s words. 

“Will Major Lorne not be confused by your scent, Lieutenant Stackhouse?” Teyla asked.

Looking at Teyla, Nate tipped his head and turned to give Evan a curious look. “You CAN filter out known variables, can’t you?”

Mildly insulted, Lorne snorted. “Of course I can. It isn't really the scent, it’s the aura I’m tracking. Scent obsessed allaghi, everything isn't always about the nose.” He grumbled the last, which made John and Nate laugh.

“Okay then, change of plan,” John said. “Teyla, Ronon, you guys head back to base. Tell Mitchell we needed to fly.” Ronon growled and then frowned and took a step closer to Lorne. “I’ll keep an eye on him, Ronon." Joan said in a mildly coaxing voice. Nate can’t carry three and I have to translate for Evan when Nate’s in his other form.”

Teyla put a hand on Ronon’s arm. “We shall return with a puddlejumper.” She tugged on Ronon’s arm, but he refused to move. She sighed, released her hold and began to gather Stackhouse’s gear. She tucked his socks in his boots, tied his bootlaces together and looped the boots through one strap of the pack.

“After they go,” Ronon tossed his chin in John’s direction.

“You’re gonna shred your shorts again,” John called as Nate began walking off towards the field. When Lorne started after him, John grabbed his sleeve and shook his head. It took a lot of room for Nate to change forms.

“I’m not walking around bare-assed and giving you guys a show,” Stackhouse replied without looking back. 

John stifled a laugh when he thought he heard Lorne mumble, “Pity.”

“John, I have been curious about something,” Teyla said as she handed Nate’s backpack to Ronon and held his clothing folded over her arm. “When Lieutenant Stackhouse is in his human form, where does all the mass of his other form go?”

“The way it was explained to me was that allaghi exist on two planes at once. When they shift forms here, the other is on the other plane. Does that jive with what you know, Lorne?” It felt good to talk freely about Allos, the fernal world, without constantly looking over his shoulder. 

Lorne nodded. “Yup. The other plane is a void, there’s nothing there, Chuck told me once that it’s like being in stasis.”

Over in the field, Nate had dropped to all fours and gave an incoherent shout. Though he braced himself for it, John was still driven to his knees by the pain leaking through their link as Nate shifted form. He waved off his companion’s concern and helping hands as he concentrated on sending soothing and drawing off some of the pain through the link to Stackhouse as he switched forms.

In about the length of time it took to dial up the Gate, John’s radio squawked, Mitchell’s voice coming through. “Mitchell to AG-1. What the hell is going on?” Apparently, he had picked up on their pain, even from across the sector.

Hunched over in pain, gasping and panting, John was almost incapable of speech, though he flailed a hand up in an attempt to answer Mitchell’s question. Teyla caught John’s hand and squeezed it tightly as she took the call. “Lieutenant Stackhouse is in a bit of distress. Colonel Sheppard is attempting to assist,” Teyla explained, keeping it vague in case anyone that was not fernal was listening in. 

“Damn it. Do we need to send a medical team?” Nate was through the hardest part of the change, and John was able to breath again. He shook his head at Teyla.

“No, Colonel Mitchell, they appear to be fine. But if you could send a puddlejumper, we need to search further afield than we had planned. Perhaps Lieutenant Edison is available?” John was relieved that Teyla was on the ball, she had suggested one of the pilots she knew to be fernal. Edison was water stoicheo, Teyla had worked with him on several missions in the past, and he had been accidentally outed to her on one of those missions, when he had saved her from drowning.

There was a pause as Mitchell processed the request on the other end. “Gotcha. It’ll be crowded, so I’ll send Edison out alone. How are they doing?”

“Oh. My. God,” Lorne whispered, staring at Stackhouse with his jaw hanging open. "That is... the most awesome being I have ever laid eyes on."

“Cool, huh?” Ronon said, slapping Lorne’s shoulder heartily. 

John put a hand up and Ronon pulled him to his feet, just as Stackhouse let out a bellowing roar and flapped his wings. “We’re fine. We’ll call later. Sheppard out,” John replied in a rush and disconnected the transmission before the mic picked up Stackhouse’s happy caterwauling at he rolled in the field and grew re-accustomed to his other form. It had been a couple of months since he had an opportunity to change. 

“C’mon, we better go, before Edison gets here.” John grasped Lorne’s sleeve and yanked him along as he started towards Nate. 

“So big. You said... but I didn’t expect... so friggin’ huge!” Lorne stumbled a bit as he tried to take in Nate’s whole length. The golden scales on his hide caught the sunlight, reflecting it like tiny mirrors. 

As they got closer, Nate swung his head around until he was nose to nose with Sheppard. John reached up and began to scratch at a spot just above Nate’s jaw. He tilted his head and let out a huge sigh, which sounded like an echo in an empty drum. “‘What are you doing, Sheppard?” Lorne asked as John moved a hand over the ridge of Nate’s nose and up over one eye. 

“He’s itchy,” Sheppard said with a smirk. In an undertone, he whispered to Lorne, "He's kinda like a big cat when he's in this form."

"So you have two of them?"

John smiled. "Yeah, I guess I do. Go figure, I always considered myself more of a dog person." 

Nate swung his head around and let out a huge huff with his nostrils, forcing John to take a step back. John patted his nose. "I like you better than dogs, Nate. We need to move. Where’s the worst of the itching?” There was always itching with the changeover. He slid his hand up and rubbed the scales near one ear as Nate tilted his head towards him. Then he stretched out to let John straddle his neck. John reached out, caught Lorne by the forearm and hauled him up after him. “Okay?” John asked as Evan threw his arms around his waist.

“As I ever will be. Let’s go.”

They could feel the muscles rippling beneath the thick layers of scales and hide. Nate began to beat his wings as he took a few lumbering steps across the grass. And then he leapt at the sky and they were up. 

“Direction?” John called over his shoulder. Lorne had to press close to hear him. He pointed to the north and Stackhouse banked gracefully. John had his toes hooked under the edge of one of the larger scale plates where Nate’s neck met his torso. It had taken a few tries to figure out just how to place himself so that his seat was secure while at the same time, he avoided hurting Nate, but now it felt quite natural. 

He glanced down and back, but could not see another foothold in the scales close enough for Lorne to set his feet, so he’d have to maintain the death grip he had on John’s waist. _*Do you sense anything?*_ John asked Nate after they had left the field far behind and soared towards a mountain range in the distance.

_*Don’t you? I hear songs in the wind.*_

_*Do you really or are you just being a big, giddy dork again?*_ Switching to true form tended to make Nate a bit punch drunk until he’d had a chance to work off the energy and excitement. It was a big body, there was a lot of energy to burn off. It was the most annoying when he sang show tunes for hours at John as they flew, like a radio station he couldn’t switch off. Who knew a hetero dragon-kin would be into the best of Broadway and the West End?

_*Really. To the north. Listen.*_

John closed his eyes and little by little accounted for every noise and was able to ignore them one by one, letting it all fade to the background. The strident motions of Nate’s wings, the wind whistling past them, the beat of Nate's heart, Lorne’s breathing, his own blood rushing in his ears; all faded to the background. And then he heard it, the sound of numerous voices coming from a great distance. _*I hear.*_

He almost swooned from the backlash of happy emotions coming from Nate in waves. _*I never thought I’d hear that again,*_ Nate purred into John’s mind.

_*Is it drakon singing?*_

_*No, they’re pritchio. They died out centuries ago on Earth. They’re insects, big as birds, they follow drakon and pick stuff out from under scales. Kinda like tick birds and rhinos. And their wings hum and send out that music you’re hearing.*_ Stackhouse’s mind-voice was heavily saturated with emotion. 

Lorne let go with one arm to bat John on the shoulder excitedly. “A little to the west now,” he shouted when John turned to look at him. John nodded and relayed the change in direction to Nate. 

“Hold on!” John called, reaching up with one hand to grasp Lorne’s arm where it was wrapped around his middle. He pressed his knees tightly to keep his seat as Nate dipped to one side to turn. 

There was a gasp near his ear and then Evan was laughing as they straightened out again. Of course he was enjoying himself, he was a pilot too. How could he help but love this freedom of flight without the confines of a ship or plane around him? Lorne gave a whoop of delight as Nate dove and pulled up, showing off a little for their passenger. “Don’t encourage him!” John called when Evan dug his knees in and laughed again. "He'll start performing like a circus pony!'

They flew for a while longer, leaving the sound of pritchio behind. _*I hope the silence doesn't portend a failed mission.*_

_*It doesn't,*_ John reassured Nate with a hard pat to his hide. _*Lorne’s got something, we're on the right track.*_

Sober now, Nate replied, _*I hope not a dead something. It could be a dead something, which would explain why the pritchio aren’t clustered around a live drakon.*_

_*Stop that, be positive,*_ John scolded, just as Evan pointed past his shoulder. 

“That way. In the valley, I think.” He quickly dropped his hand and wrapped his arm back around John's waist. 

_*Head for the valley, Lorne says,*_ John told Nate. 

Stackhouse dropped a few hundred feet, bringing them closer to the ground so that John could get a visual while on their approach to the valley. Stackhouse’s vision in this form was far less acute, he relied on John, his Rider, to watch the ground as they flew. 

“Yeah, straight ahead,” Lorne said near John’s ear. 

_*We should probably keep an eye out for guards. Drakon back home tend to be isolationists, always were, it might be a trait endemic to our kind,*_ Nate suggested as he dropped lower, almost to the top of the treeline.

John saw motion on the hillside a moment too late. There was a whistling noise and then he looked down to see an arrow protruding from his chest. “Fuck,” he muttered, just as the pain started. 

_*JOHN?!?*_

A second arrow pierced his left side. Rolling to the side and almost dislodging his wounded rider and passenger, Nate gave a bellow of outrage and dropped down into the trees, crashing through branches as Lorne held onto John, somehow keeping him upright as they landed hard and ungracefully on the forest floor. 

“Off,” John hissed, throwing himself to the right and taking Evan with him as he slid off to the ground. He managed to land on his feet, but stumbled sideways a few steps, grasping the end of the arrow in his side and yanking it out, which started blood flowing out through the hole in his shirt, over the hand he pressed to the wound.

Behind him, Stackhouse screamed out, sharing the pain with John as Lorne caught him and guided him to his knees. When Lorne saw that Nate had begun to shift forms he yelled out, “Wait!” 

John caught his arm and gasped out. “Stacks... needs to shift... safer... human... on the ground. I can’t protect...” he slumped forward into Lorne’s arms, his vision going black.

**~*~**

Changing back to human form was not as painful as the switch to drakon had been, but he cried out anyway as he shared in John’s pain. This was the worst case scenario; losing a Rider like this, sharing a battle injury. Nate shook his head, trying to clear it of the mess muddling his thoughts. Whomever had taken that shot had known the best way to incapacitate both Rider and mount.

Naked, his body thrumming from head to foot with pain and rage, he scrambled to John’s side. Lorne had already divested Sheppard of his tac vest and was peeling his shirt from the wound. Blood poured from the gaping wound in his side and seeped out around the second arrow that looked far too close to John’s heart to be safe. “John?” Nate whispered, clasping his cheeks. “Open your eyes! Look at me, John. What can I do?” John didn’t open his eyes, he was out cold. 

He grasped the arrow where it met John’s chest, closing his hand over it. “What are you doing? No!” Lorne cried.

“I have to, his body will heal around it. He can’t heal properly with it inside him.” He leaned in and whispered, “I’m sorry John.” Then he pulled, and blood spurted up at him as the arrow came free. He eyed the tip with a snarl. “Thank heavens it isn’t barbed.”

The woods around them rustled and they were suddenly surrounded by two dozen archers, clad in an array of white and pastel toga-like garments, some wearing hooded short cloaks, almost all holding bows at the ready. “Step back from the abomination,” the one that stepped out from the others commanded. He had sandy colored hair and brown eyes and he addressed Nate directly.

“He is my Rider, how dare you cut down what is mine!” Nate called, refusing to stand. He pressed both hands to the open wound, applying pressure. 

“Not the kizal, the other one, the mixed blood,” the man pointed his arrow at Lorne and stared with open hostility. “We do not allow the impure within our Valley.” 

Lorne sighed and stepped away from John, holding his hands up. He was half vreite and half kleftis, he was quite used to being shunned for his kleftis nature, the people of Allos were nervous around anyone that could “steal” their abilities. Surreptitiously, Lorne had tapped his comlink open. Nate had heard the static of the com connecting and then Teyla’s voice, acknowledging that they were receiving. “We need an extraction,” Lorne said into the mic pickup. To the guards converging on them, Lorne said, “I’ll leave. There’s no need for further violence. I’ll take my injured friend and we’ll go.”

They stopped and looked at each other, then all looked to the one that must be the leader, the one holding an ornately carved bow in his hand. “You may leave, you must leave. The kizel will be cared for. The one with faulty aim shall be punished,” the leader turned and glared at a young woman with dark, honey blonde hair that spilled from her dark hood and fell in waves to her waist. She was the sole guard not holding her bow with an arrow knocked to the string, her weapon hung loosely from her fingertips. She gulped and dropped her gaze to her feet. 

The leader snapped his fingers and motioned her forward. “Make amends, offer your blood for the kizel you have wronged, that his life might be spared. For the good of your cunae, make your peace with the goddess and let your life have some honor with the sacrifice.” 

Shuffling forward, the girl knelt beside John and drew a knife with an ornately carved hilt from her belt. She raised it to her own throat, her hand shaking slightly as she touched the tip to her skin, holding the hilt in a tight grip, prepared to thrust it in. Realizing what she meant to do, Nate snapped a hand up and captured her wrist in an iron hold. “No. Not like that. You’ll die if you do it like that.”

She raised her gaze to look at Nate. He saw misery there, in the golden eyes. “That is the intent, Brother Wind Walker. I have offended, I must sacrifice for this life I have taken, I cannot dishonor my cunae. My comrades will make sure that my blood is offered, one way or another,” she whispered only loud enough for Nate to hear her. She had ornate tattoos above her right eye and below her left, extending down her cheek in stylized swirls and vines in a pale ink that made it seem almost like brands. 

“He isn’t dead. He doesn’t need that much, and he certainly won’t take it like this, at the cost of another's life," Nate replied in an undertone.

Turning her head, she dislodged the hood that had been draped over her head as she looked to the leader, glaring at her. She looked back to Nate helplessly. "It would be a dishonor not to follow through."

"The taking of a life would be a dishonor my Rider, my kizel, could not live with. Give me your hand." Nate held his palm up and out. She gave him her hand, which was warm and tiny in his. He slid his fingers down and clasped her wrist. "And your blade." 

He made a small cut across her wrist, about an inch long. As the blood welled up, he moved her wrist to John's mouth. "Hold your arm still." He cupped a hand under Sheppard's head and raised it. _*Drink, Sheppard!*_ he commanded as loudly as he could, intending to rouse his Rider if possible. This was eerily reminiscent of the day they had bonded. Sheppard woke, confused, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the light. He tried to push the bloody wrist from his mouth.

"Drink, Sheppard!" Nate commanded aloud for the benefit of those watching. Sheppard had lost his sunglasses in the fall. _*It's a ceremony thing. I have a feeling they'll slit this girl's throat if you refuse her blood.*_

_*Damn it! I really don't need this. I'm flush, coming off that hormone binge. I'll be fine, the damned tip missed anything of importance. I was just stunned,*_ John complained, with enough strength that Nate was relieved, convinced that he would be all right.

Nate looked into his eyes and pleaded, _*Just fake it, there's something going on here, they were too quick to order her to spill her blood. I don't like the tension in the air.*_

Opening his eyes, John looked up at the girl for the first time. _*Shit, she's terrified, Nate.*_

_*I know. She was ready to plunge the dagger into her own throat a minute ago.*_ Nate replied. John reached up and grasped the girl's hand, then pretended to suck noisily from her wrist. 

"That is not what what she was to do, this is not proper," the brown haired man with the attitude snapped. 

"This is the only way my Rider will feed. Since it is his life you meant to spare, should the offering not be made in a manner of my choosing, in our tradition? Or do you not honor the traditions of other nations here?" It was a bold accusation, calling the honor of strangers into question, but Nate didn't like the way the girl had been shoved forward so readily to die.

The man gnashed his teeth and resumed glaring at Lorne as if he were a dirty diaper left on his front porch.

"What is your name?" Nate asked the girl. 

"Arihanna." 

"That's lovely. "I'm Nate. My Rider is John." He patted John's belly and John growled at him.

There was a roar above and behind them and the puddlejumper appeared, following the path through the trees Nate had made as he crashed down through the branches. "That would be my ride!" Lorne called cheerfully, taking a few steps back away from the bow-wielding, angry drakon.

The jumper landed and Ronon and Teyla were out and running towards them in a flash. Seeing all the blood, Ronon let out a roar and turned menacingly towards the armed guards, drawing his blaster. 

"Ronon, hold!" Lorne ordered, when Ronon started forward towards the man easily identifiable as the leader by his stance and attitude.

A wave of whispers passed through them and Nate heard the word 'stelly' repeated a few times. "Another abomination! You surround yourself with the unclean, Brother Wind Walker!" the leader shouted at Nate, pointing his weapon at Ronon.

"Jykor is fervent in his beliefs in isolation and pure blood," Arihanna whispered, leaning closer to Nate, over John's body. “He does not like newcomers. Or anyone not Arept.” 

Teyla had come to John and brushed his hair back from his face. John opened his eyes and looked up at her, giving her a wink. Teyla smiled in relief and then looked around at the assemblage. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as she looked at Nate and gave him an up and down look. She tapped her radio. "Lieutenant Edison, would you bring Lieutenant Stackhouse's uniform and boots?" She smiled as she listened to the response. 

Reminded of his state of undress, Nate looked down at himself and blushed. Edison couldn't come over fast enough with his uniform. Nate snatched it from the grinning Lieutenant's hand and stood, quickly stepping into his BDUs and yanking his black t-shirt over his head. Then he crouched down beside John again. 

"Okay, you had enough. I don't want you overdoing it again, I'm not keen to share another one of your blood hangovers." He reached over and pulled Arihanna's arm from John's mouth, he had already licked her to allow the healing properties of his saliva to begin to work. 

John sat up, rubbing his hand over his chest, which was undoubtedly sore, though already healing. His pain level was low enough that he was able to shield Nate from it easily enough. "Lorne, take Ronon and Edison, go back to the Gate and report in," John ordered, coughing as he raised his voice to a level loud enough to be heard. 

"Colonel, should we not leave as well?" Teyla asked as Lorne backed away from the guards. Edison had turned and jogged back to the jumper after handing off Stackhouse's tac vest, boots and gun belt to Teyla.

John looked up at Nate. _*Maybe we should all go?*_

_*I want to get to the bottom of this bullshit. That Jykor is still looking like he means to hurt Arihanna. I want to know why. She has markings, John, in the ancient way. Only a few of them over there have them. I can’t leave yet, I need to know... things. Please.*_

_*Are they all drakon?*_

_*Definitely.*_

"We'll stay, Teyla. I would like to meet our hosts. They seem a little tense with some of our party. We came all this way, it seems a shame not to see the valley." Sheppard smiled at the natives. Nate clasped John's hand and pulled him to his feet, which caused some more murmuring from the crowd. Didn't their haima heal quickly? 

Arihanna was staring at John as well. "You are healed, Master Kizel?"

"Call me John, and I'll be fine." John glanced around and for good measure added, "You have strong blood, Arihanna."

"May our companion Teyla join us?" Nate asked, taking his tac vest from her and pulling it on.

Jykor waved one of the men forward and he walked a circle around Teyla, sniffing the air delicately. Teyla stood with her chin raised proudly , looking straight ahead. After staring at her for a moment, the man gave a reluctant nod and ran back to the treeline. "She may attend you."

Ronon had held his position, glaring at Jykor's men, as if daring them to advance another step, which they didn't. "Hey, Big Guy, go with Lorne," John called as Lorne reached the safety of the puddlejumper. Reluctantly, Ronon gave a last dirty look at the natives and jogged off to the jumper. They took off a minute later, heading back for the Gate.

"I am Nathan Stackhouse, Heir of the Central Aerie of Earth. I would like to speak to whomever is in charge in your Valley," Nate called. He didn't like Jykor, and he was quickly coming to the conclusion that the man felt the same way about him. The man almost sneered, but then seemed to remember his manners. 

_*Heir... does that make you a prince or something?*_

_*Shut up, Sheppard.*_

"Come," Jykor said simply and most of the guards disappeared, leaving Jykor, the guy with the nose that had sniffed Teyla, the four guys that took up position at the front and back of the procession and Arihanna to walk along the trail that he pointed out. Jykor took the lead, distancing himself from them as much as possible. 

Arihanna fell into step beside Nate. _*Are you able to mind speak?*_ Nate asked her. 

She stumbled a step then turned to smile at him. _*Yes, though it is becoming a lost art in the Valley.*_

_*Why?*_ John asked, butting in on the conversation. 

_*You shouldn't be able to do that!*_ Nate protested.

John shrugged and smirked over his shoulder. _*I sucked her blood. It's probably a temporary connection. I want to know the politics we're walking into, before it wears off. Why does this Jykor hate you so much, Arihanna?*_

_*You are perceptive, Maste... John. Jykor abhors my kind, we represent the old ways. The kizel have almost died out, few take riders when they go on the air now. Jykor and those of their so-called Path of Reason have convinced the young ones that bonding is a form of slavery and is wrong and dirty. They would have the Valley stripped of any but the Arept. They have slowly been eliminating my people, as well as our helpmates and friends over the past few years.*_

_*Did you fire the arrows?*_ John asked. 

Her step faltered and she blushed guiltily. _*I did. Accept my sincerest and deepest apologies. Please believe that I did not intend to harm you, any of you. You were not my target.*_

_"If not us, then who was your target?*_ Nate asked.

She sighed. _*I was sent to take Busrikt, the one that grovels at Jykor's heel. He is their finder, their sniffer, the one that ferrets out any not of true blood. He is the most dangerous to those not of pure Arept descent. I aimed for him when I saw that they meant to take you, Nate. I hoped the distraction would draw them off. But someone redirected my arrows after I had let fly.*_

_*You were ready to die, you could have run,*_ Nate said gently.

_*I failed my mission and nearly killed your kizel, a young and healthy kizel at that. I deserved to die trying to heal him.*_

John rolled his eyes. Stupid martyr complexes. There must truly be few haima here, if she thought giving all her blood would be necessary to heel a pair of arrow punctures. _*I hope you're over that notion now,*_ John snapped. She blushed and nodded in response, pulling her cloak and hood closer around her.

The conversation paused as they came to a rope bridge and had to cross. John moved back in the line to walk close to Teyla. Should there be an 'accident' he could grab Teyla and turn a fall into a glide and keep the pair of them from being killed. Nate would probably be able to partially shift in midair, enough to get his wings, and though it would be a torturous process, he too could survive the fall into the chasm below them.

_*How many Arept are there in the valley?*_ Nate asked when they had all crossed safely and were on their way along a path that was cut into a cliff face. 

Arihanna looked thoughtful. _*Perhaps two thousand.*_

Nate's jaw dropped. _*Two thousand. All here, in one place?*_

She smiled and shrugged. _*There is another settlement, across the sea, called Calipar. I do not know their numbers. But that is where the intolerance began, settlers came from there to spread their message here. Those of my clutch have no desire to go there. We still revere our helpmates, our kizel and linta. I miss the songs of the linta, they have fled the Valley. I have heard rumors that across the sea, they slaughtered all the linta and allowed a plague to kill their kizel and all those of other blood.*_

Teyla had fallen back to walk beside Arihanna. "Do you know if there are others of your kind on other worlds?" she asked, though she could not have been following the telepathic conversation, her mind was obviously following the same train of thought as John and Nate's. 

"I know of four worlds where Arept dwell, there may be others, though all remain quite securely hidden from the Wraith and rarely venture out by the Rings as they did in the ancient times." 

Teyla smiled and looked at Nate, who was staring at Arihanna. John wondered if Teyla saw what he did, sensed through her weird Teyla senses what John had picked up through his bond with Stacks. Nate was smitten, completely. He was a knight on a mission to save the beautiful maiden and there wasn't a whole lot John could think of to dissuade him from the path. It had been ages since Nate had seen a female of his kind, was it any wonder he was crushing on the first he came across? 

"Hey Nate... Prime Directive?" John made the Trek reference in a vain attempt to remind him that they didn't need to get involved. Nate's answer was to flip John the bird over his shoulder. John looked over at Teyla and shrugged. "I tried, you can tell Mitchell, you were a witness, I tried to stop him."

"The Lieutenant seems rather intent on being, what would you call it, a white knight on a shining steed?" Teyla asked.

"Close enough," John replied with a brisk nod.

**~*~**

Cam paced in his office, waiting for Lorne, Edison and Ronon to report in. There were protocols in place that had prevented him from diving through the Gate to get to Nate and John when he sensed that they were in pain. He had not been able to run off and leave the city, with his Military Commander and Executive Officer both off world. He didn't feel the pain John and Nate must have been enduring, which he guessed was lucky, but he had known that his bondmates were in trouble. The knowledge was making Cam nuts.

"They were okay when we left," Lorne said as soon as he crossed the threshold with Ronon at his heels and Lieutenant Edison trailing along behind. Cam relaxed a little bit. Not a lot, but a little bit. "Colonel Sheppard ordered us back here."

"What happened?" he demanded.

"The Colonel was arrowshot by hostiles hidden in the woods. Lieutenant Stackhouse was tending to him when said hostiles came out of the woods and surrounded us. They do not like mixed blood fernal," Lorne said quietly, thumping his chest with his thumb.

"Or me," Ronon added, grinning toothily. Ronon was a stelly, what Earth fernal would call athanata; an undying one. To 'kill' Ronon, one would have to first take his head then burn his corpse, or else he would eventually heal. He kept his nature a secret from almost everyone, as it tended to make people very, very nervous when they found out. 

Mitchell looked over at Edison, knowing Lorne and Ronon were holding back because of Stackhouse's nature, still a secret from most everyone. "Does that jive with what you saw, Lieutenant?"

"Yes sir."

"Anything to add?"

"The hostiles were quite... hostile towards both the Major and Ronon, sir. They seemed respectful of Colonel Sheppard and Lieutenant Stackhouse. But otherwise, no, I did not really see anything of note."

"Very good. Dismissed." Mitchell waited until Edison was gone before he looked to Ronon. "How about you?"

Ronon shrugged. "Sheppard was fine. Two arrow holes, no organs pierced. He was on his feet when I left."

"Or you wouldn't have left," Mitchell surmised.

"Nope."

Lorne rocked on his heels, waiting until Cam looked at him to add, "There's some kind of politics going on. A few of their number had tattoos on their faces, they were on the fringe, at the back. Body language tells me they are second class, following in the wake of the unmarked. The girl that fired the arrows at us was thrown right under the bus by their leader, ordered to commit suicide and offer her blood to John to make amends."

"Do they want a stoned haima stumbling around their town square? A haima would have to be mortally wounded and actively bleeding out to ingest that much blood."

Leaning against the edge of Cam's desk, Lorne crossed his arms and nodded in agreement. "Which they had to know. They call their haima kizel, they knew John for what he was. This Jykor that led them had to know John didn't need all that blood. So why the extreme punishment?"

"As you said, politics. Was the girl tattooed? I think I read that the First Kin... the drakon, marked themselves to identify their clutch, their family."

"Nate has tattoos on his leg, going all the way up his side," Lorne said.

"He does?"

Lorne nodded. "I couldn't help but notice today."

"Okay." Cam filed that information away. "So, they're walking into trouble?" 

Ronon rolled his eyes. Lorne twisted his lips and replied, "This is Colonel Sheppard we're talking about." 

"Right. Time for contingency planning."

**~*~**

As they reached the edge of the valley, John stopped short and stared. Beside him, Teyla let out a small gasp of delighted surprise.

“Oh!” Nate exclaimed as he caught sight of dozens of drakon in flight. The sun shimmered off scales in a rainbow of colors. 

*No crying. There’s no crying on away missions!* John told Nate as he sensed the upswell of emotion coming from his friend. *Keep it together, buddy.*

“So many,” Nate breathed out, clasping John’s shoulder as he stepped forward and stared up at the sky. *Even before The Plague, there were never so many, flying freely.* 

Jykor turned to glare at them impatiently when they didn’t continue to follow him along the winding trail. “Coming!” John called. “Just admiring the view.”

“Have you no chimerie in your homeland?” Arihanna asked quietly as she stared at Nate, no doubt seeing the shifting emotions on his face as he shielded his eyes to watch the drakon in flight above them. The walls of the valley were dotted with dark spots, the mouths of caves. Individuals broke from the groups frolicking in the air to dart to the valley walls and disappear into the caves. 

“Not anymore,” John answered her when Stackhouse was silent. “We should get moving, our guide is getting antsy. He grasped Nate’s elbow and tugged him along. 

When they got closer to the settlement, the scent of drakon in the air almost knocked John to his knees, it was so potent. They were stopped on the path by more toga-clad guards, armed with spears and bows. It seemed, like most races in Pegasus, hiding from the Wraith had kept the population of this world in a pre-industrial state. 

An elderly woman in a flowing robe with tattoos showing on her neck and face called out in a trilling voice, “You have brought strangers, Jykor? Have the fires of the netherworld gone cold with frost?!?” She laughed heartily as Jykor scowled and brushed past her, ignoring the question. Then she advanced on John and Nate, looking them over approvingly and smiling in welcome. When she reached Teyla, she quirked her head and peered closely at her, giving a small sniff. 

_*If she licks Teyla, I’m going to bust a gut laughing,*_ Nate said to John, who managed to not crack a smile at the thought. 

“Hello, pretty flower,” the old woman said, patting Teyla’s cheek. “Quite the beauty you are.” John had been a little concerned about the traces of Wraith DNA that Teyla possessed becoming an issue, but apparently, the drakon didn’t pick up on it. “Does she serve you, Master Kizel?” Her tone was reverent towards John, just as Arihanna’s had been.

_*Her name is Olfi, she is an elder of the Southern Cunae,*_ Arihanna supplied helpfully. Then she went down on one knee and bowed her head. “Greetings, honored Olfi,” she said. “Fair sky and warm sun.”

John didn’t kneel, but he did step forward, smile and nod his head respectfully. “I am Colonel Sheppard of Atlantis, honored Olfi. Teyla is my friend, as is Lieutenant Stackhouse. We work together.” John hoped he hadn’t just put his foot in it, but he preferred being honest up front when doing the meet and greet thing. While on away missions, pretending to be anything other than Teyla’s friend had always gotten him in deep trouble with natives in the past. 

“Lieutenant Stackhouse? An odd name for a chimerie,” Olfi remarked. 

Stomping, his sandals flapping noisily against his heels, Jykor came back and tapped his foot as he glared at Olfi. “They are to be taken to the Synod for an introduction, there is no time for your foolishness, old one!” Jykor barked.

“There is always time enough to greet new friends, you impatient whelp!” Olfi replied, pointing a finger in his direction. “The first travelers to come here in three hatchings time and you’ll rush them past my door? This is my right. It has always been the right and duty of my cunae to greet the travelers. Or shall you usurp that tradition as well?”

Nate met John’s look over the old woman’s head. _*Politics,*_ John remarked, rolling his eyes. 

Glaring daggers at Jykor, Olfi made a motion in the air with her hand that was either the invocation of a dreadful curse or simply rude, either way the intent was clear, as was the result. They could hear the grinding of Jykor’s teeth from thirty yards away.

She turned to Nate. “As I said, Lieutenant is a very odd name, how did you come by it?”

“Lieutenant is my rank, honored one. My given name is Nathan, my friends call me Nate.” 

“You are part of a military force?” Arihanna asked, speaking more freely in the presence of the elder than she had while they were walking. 

Nate nodded. “John is my commanding officer.”

“As is proper. He is your kizel,” Olfi said, nodding her head briskly as she made the declaration. She reached out and squeezed Nate’s upper arm. “Young, strong. Are you healthy?”

John saw Nate stifle a smile. “Yes, I am.” 

“We are cursed with an overabundance of females on Arept.” She turned and glared at Jykor again. “It has made our males cocky and flighty and self important. They fight over words and ideas now, rather than for their brides, as in the old times. It has made them lazy and dull witted.”

“Enough of your chatter, harridan!” Jykor snapped.

Olfi growled low in her throat, and John was reminded of Ronon, especially when she shot a withering look at Jykor. “Enough when I say enough. Close your jaws or I shall make sure you never father a hatchling again. Our arept will be better off, with no more of your spawn in the skies. You have no respect!” Pressing his lips together, Jykor looked ready to spit nails.

“Have you a nestmate, Nate?” Olfi’s tone was as sweet as pie as she turned back to him.

Nate blushed and shuffled from foot to foot. “Well, uhm, not as such, no.” 

“You will come with me, now,” Jykor commanded, and waved the guards forward. “Olfi, you have no authority to make matches or offers to strangers. That is for the Synod of Arept to decide. This meeting is done.” 

“We are not all as rude as THAT one,” Olfi told Nate, patting his arm as he was encouraged to move by the guard approaching him. 

_*Master Kizel. Be wary of those that do not bear the markings of their cunae. Their thinking is radical and oftimes dangerous,*_ Olfi said into John’s mind as he walked away. _*The unmarked ones murdered the Kizel of Calipar, in the name of their Path of Reason. It is only a matter of time before what happened there happens here in Arept.*_

She couldn’t hear his response, as they did not share a true bond. It was a testament to her great age and skill that she had spoken to him directly without such a bond. He stopped and turned to catch her eye. He nodded, indicating he understood her warning. 

_*Too many fools on the wing these days. I fear the old ways shall soon be but a memory,*_ Olfi said. Then aloud she bid them all, “Fair sky and warm sun, my new friends.”

They climbed many stairs to get to an ornately tiled chamber. The room was huge, as befitted drakon. It was perhaps large enough for three drakon of Nate’s size to stand within the walls comfortably, five if they were friendly and squeezed in. Colorful mosaics decorated the walls, floors and ceilings. 

They were brought to the Synod, John and Teyla were shuffled off to the side of the chamber and Nate was brought before the leaders of Arept, two men and four women. Only one, an old woman that sat alone on a bench to the side, bore the markings of a cunae. She smiled at them.

_*Getting a bad feeling about this. I can practically taste the tension in here,*_ John said to Nate. They were being stared at with open hostility by two of the women and one of the men. 

Jykor had apparently laid out his case already on the way in, and John was reminded why he hated dealing with telepaths and politics in the same room. Smiles on the outside, venom on the inside. He did not miss living within the confines of the Sheppard coven back home, this was the sort of thing that they revelled in, meetings and politics and conflict. John had no stomach for it. 

“Bring the girl forward,” a women with hair so white it was almost blue said icily. Arihanna was shoved to the center of the room. “Do you deny that you shot the kizel?” She did not even bother to look over at John, the supposedly aggrieved party. 

She kept her chin up as she looked at the woman asking the question. “No.”

“You failed to properly atone. You have brought shame upon your cunae. You have admitted your guilt, the punishment is clear,” the white haired woman said.

Nate waved a hand to draw the bitchy woman’s attention and called out, “Wait a minute! She gave him blood, she helped him heal. We are satisfied that this was not intentional, there was no insult given.”

One of the men leaned forward from where he sat on his bench and said, “One arrow might have been an error, however, two shows intent. She did not make amends in the proper manner.”

With a cold smirk, one of the other women asked Arihanna, “By the law and by your own precious traditions, there is now only one course of action, is there not?”

The old woman with the markings chewed on her lip, but remained silent. Offering neither censure nor support. 

“Yes,” Arihanna said, her head down, the hood of her cloak hiding her face as she stared at the floor. 

Looking quite pleased to make the pronouncement, the white haired woman said, “You are stripped of all rights. You are no longer of arept, you have dishonored your cunae.” Arihanna’s shoulders slumped. “And you will pay for your crime.” 

A man stepped forward, drawing a sword. Arihanna knelt on the mosaic floor, her cloak pooling around her, stark black against the multitude of colors that made up the floor. The swordsman yanked Arihanna’s hood back and shoved her heavy hair aside, baring her neck.

_*John!*_ Nate turned and looked at him helplessly. _*We have to stop this!*_ When he moved to make a grab for Arihanna, he was seized by three guards and dragged backwards across the chamber, kicking and struggling as they held him. 

_Master Kizel, your friend will not hear me._ John looked around for the source of the voice in his mind. He saw the old woman of the Synod with the tattoos looking straight at him. She gave a nod, it was her speaking to him. _*Arihanna has been stripped of her cunae, she is without the protection of her family or that of a Kizel. If one were to claim her now, to offer her their protection, the law is clear, the execution would be stayed.*_

The blade was already raised, the executioner tensing for the killing stroke. It was only because John was haima that he was able to dash across the room and get between Arihanna and the swordsman before the blade swung down all the way. He caught the blade a few inches from the tip between the palms of his hands, holding it about a foot from Arihanna’s neck. Blood trickled down his wrists and rolled down the metal to drip on the tile floor. Arihanna moved her head to look at the blood and then stared up at John with wide eyes. 

“I claim Arihanna the nameless for my coven. She is under the protection of Atlantis from this moment forward.” John hoped it was enough in the eyes of their laws, that the words satisfied their tradition.

The executioner bowed his head and tugged the sword back. John released his hold on the metal and crouched down, taking Arihanna’s elbow and bringing her to her feet as he turned to face the Synod. “And, we’ll be leaving now.” He glared at the men still holding Nate. “Release my drakon. Teyla, with me.” John didn’t wait to be dismissed, or to see if the men let Nate go. He pulled Arihanna along beside him as he headed for the door.

“This is...!” the blue haired woman shouted.

“... within the law. The kizel has every right to claim one denounced,” The old woman with the markings interrupted, speaking aloud for the first time.

Nate had been released and he ran over to join them, walking beside Teyla as they exited the chamber. “John...”

“Shh. I’m thinking. We need to get out of here, onto friendly ground,” John said, following the corridor back the way they had come, trying to remember the layout. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Jykor and his cronies got their shit together and came after them. They clearly wanted Arihanna dead, and they might not try to do it within the confines of the law when they caught up with her.

Arihanna still seemed stunned from her brush with the sword. She stumbled along beside John, leaning heavily on his arm. When they reached a staircase, they were about to start down when a woman hissed at them from a doorway to get their attention and beckoned to them. “Come, quickly. This way.” It was only because she had markings on her face similar to the ones Arihanna wore that John followed.

They were led into a narrow corridor. “This lets out in the garden of the Eastern cunae. It is only a short walk through the trees to the Shrine of Poltan.”

John noticed a change in his companions breathing as her step faltered at the mention of the shrine. “Will Arihanna be safe there?”

“Yes. Even the followers of the Path will not approach the shrine of Poltan,” the woman replied.

Teyla, ever curious about the cultures of other worlds, asked, “So they still respect Poltan, despite their new beliefs?”

“Oh, no!” the woman tittered. “They just will not enter the shrine.”

“The shrine of Poltan is said to be cursed,” Arihanna added in a quiet voice. “There have been incidents, and most fear the shrine and will not enter the grounds. There are things roaming the grounds that kill indiscriminately.”

“We’re not afraid of curses,” John declared.

“You would do well to be,” the woman leading them said, stopping to stare at them.

John tossed his head, letting his fangs slide down, tamping down on the pain as the points pierced his gums. “I’m the stuff curses are made of,” he growled. It would have been a much more effective declaration if Nate hadn’t snorted in response.

**~*~**

Nate had been shaken by the whole incident in the Synod chamber. The fact that the leaders of the arept had been willing to cut down one of their own - over a technicality - had enraged him. The life of every drakon was precious to him. He had been so shocked that he hadn’t realized they were moving to lop her head off right then and there.

 _*How did you know to do that?*_ he asked John as they picked their way through the woods. _*How did you know that saying what you did would stop them?*_

_*The old lady with the tattoos told me. I think she tried to tell you, but she couldn’t get through that thick skull of yours.*_

He grimaced. _*I was being bombarded with propaganda from random strangers from the moment we entered the valley, so I started blocking out everyone that wasn’t you.*_

They arrived at the stone path that led to the shrine and their guide ran off, her good deed for the day apparently done, and not extending to actually entering the cursed grounds. “Are you going to walk around like that?” Nate asked, tossing his nose in the direction of John’s fangs.

“Good for scaring, or tearing, whichever I need.” John had pulled his P-90 around from where it had been resting against his back, as did Teyla. 

Arihanna walked beside John, pointing the way to a side doorway. “There should be an antechamber through there. There is only one door in, it is smaller, easier to defend than the main chamber. We can hole up here.”

It was a little dank and dusty, but no worse than other buildings they had visited on away missions. Teyla positioned herself beside the door as Arihanna pressed back against one stone wall and slid down to sit on the floor. John and Nate sat beside her. 

“I owe you my life, Mast... John.”

John patted her arm. “Don’t mention it.”

“You should come with us to Atlantis, you will be safe there,” Nate said.

Surprisingly, Arihanna shook her head in denial. “I cannot leave my people. There are so few of us left that do not follow this path of insanity. I must find a way to continue my work, protecting those that still know what it means to be arept.”

“You were made, they knew what you were up to,” Nate said as understanding dawned. “That was why Jykor had such a hard-on... ehem, why he wanted you dead.”

Arihanna nodded and sighed. “I am uncertain how effective I can be, sneaking around and hiding, but I will do what I can do.”

They talked for a little while about the way the changes had come about, how the shift of power had affected the people of the valley. And about the other fernal races and how they had been driven out or eliminated from the settlements. Arihanna painted a dire future for the society she was trying so hard to preserve.

When prompted about the dearth of their kind in his homeland, Nate talked about the drakon of Earth. He and John took turns telling Arihanna about the Black Death, and how it had killed so many people, human and fernal alike. Nate had more details, since he had lived through it. Teyla, of course, was fascinated and listened without comment as she stood guard by the door. 

“What was that?” Nate suddenly jumped as something skirted the edge of his vision, moving in the direction of the corner.

Teyla immediately aimed her weapon where Stackhouse was staring. “I see nothing there, Lieutenant.”

“John?” John was on his feet, walking towards the shadowy corner. “Be careful,” Nate warned, “What do you see?”

“Nothing. I sense something though. Something full of bad attitude.” Sheppard stopped and looked up. A shadow passed over him and he spun on his heel, trying to track the motion. “Over there!” he pointed.

“I think perhaps this place IS cursed!” Arihanna called, pressed back against the wall and looking around, her eyes wide with fear.

John growled and suddenly lurched forward, reaching for something. He stumbled and swiped at empty air. “More than one,” he declared.

Thought he tried, Nate couldn’t see more than an occasional shadow, nor could he pick up any scents out of the ordinary. He sidled over to Arihanna and she left the wall to press close to his side. “Do you sense anything?” he asked her.

“Only the dampness. I see some shadows, but as soon as I have seen them, they have moved away,” she replied calmly.

“There has to be a logical explanation for this,” John said. “There is no such thing as a curse.”

“Now you are beginning to sound like Rodney,” Teyla smiled as she spun towards a new sound, a scratching noise. 

“Maybe they’re alastor?” Nate called to John. 

John wrinkled his nose. “Maybe. I’m not sure. The scent is wrong. And alastor generally don’t travel in packs.”

“You can smell something?” That was new. John’s sense of smell had always been on par with Nate’s own, and he couldn’t smell anything in the room.

“Yup. I’ve smelled it before. I can’t remember where or what it is, but I know it’s setting the hair on my neck on end. It’s gonna make me nuts until I figure it out.”

Grasping Nate’s sleeve, Arihanna gave him a tug towards the door. “We should go. We can hide in the woods, away from the grounds of the shrine.”

“I do not fear shadows. I prefer to know what is here before we abandon a suitable place to hide while we wait for Atlantis to send a puddlejumper,” Teyla said as she heard Arihanna’s words.

“Your friends are coming back?” Arihanna looked surprised.

With a nod, Teyla replied, “They will certainly send someone to retrieve us when we do not report to the city at the proper time.”

“Edinburgh!” John blurted and lifted his P-90, his eyes going to the base of the walls, searching for something 

“What about Edinburgh?” Nate asked warily. Some very nasty fernal races came from Scotland, preferring to dwell in the rough terrain and solitude offered by The Highlands. 

“I remember the smell, I spent some time there after I was turned, learning to hunt. I almost died in an alley in Edinburgh.” John was turning a circle now, trying to look everywhere at once.

Teyla asked before Nate could, “Do you know what it is, John?” 

“Fucking brownies,” John snarled, his fangs flashing. 

“Damn it!” Nate stomped his foot. This was not good. Not good at all. Brownies were nasty. They were beings of pure emotions, and teeth. There was no reasoning with the mindless little cretins, and they had a taste for warm, living flesh. “Arihanna is right, we need to get out of here. We need to be out in the open.” Out in the open they could fly.

“We should run for the trees,” Arihanna said, edging towards the door, pulling Nate along by the sleeve of his jacket. 

“Too late, they have our scent,” John replied. “They’re massing before they materialize. Then they’ll swarm. Shit.”

“At least out in the open, there’s room for me to shift, I can spit and burn.”

John shook his head. “You won’t have time to change. They’ll be on you before you’re finished. You’ll be a dead drakon.”

“I’m useless in human form, John.” Nate protested.

Teyla made a noise of disbelief. “I have seen you spar with Ronon, Lieutenant, do not discount your skills.” The compliment was nice, but it didn’t lessen Nate’s feeling of helplessness.

“Have you a weapon I may use?” Arihanna asked. John pulled the knife from his belt and walked over to hand it to her. 

“In here, we can put our backs to the wall, we’ll see them coming in. Out there, who knows how many of them there are?” John said when Nate started for the door. He checked his watch. “Fifty five minutes until our scheduled check in. We can hold our ground here.”

Nate eyed the bare room. “Too bad there’s nothing to use to block the door.” 

“You and Arihanna go to the wall, stay back to back over there. You’ll be able to see them when they’re coming, they don’t stay invisible when they’re swarming.” John went to stand with Teyla by the door, looking out through the open doorway. “The sun will be going down in a little while. If they’re anything like the ones back home, they’re probably going to wait ‘till dark, the sneaky little bastards.”

Checking her weapon, Teyla asked, “Will bullets stop them?”

John shrugged. “I dunno. I hope so. I’m fast, but not fast enough to take on a swarm.” He looked over at Nate. “Too bad we didn’t bring a few allaghi with us, some dog kin or wolf kin would be welcome right about now.”

“Teeth and nails, yeah. This is their kind of fight,” Nate agreed with a nod.

They did not wait until twilight to attack. It was about fifteen minutes later that the first few brownies became visible, shimmering into existence suddenly and running at them, screeching noisily. Teyla fired about twenty rounds into one before it fell over. They did not have enough ammo to take out a whole swarm. John opted for a show of brute force and tore one hairy little beast apart with his hands and tore the throat out of another as Teyla kept shooting. There was a lull after they dispatched the first of the attackers. Leaning through the doorway, John tossed out the broken corpse of the brownie that had made the mistake of leaping up and latching onto his throat. He hissed at the pain and fell back against the wall, holding a hand to the bloody wound.

“You okay?” Nate called. He was sensing pure rage from John, it was overwhelming everything else that might be coming from him at this point.

“Yeah.” He waved Teyla off when she started towards him. “Fine. Hopefully the little pile of death out there makes them think twice before charging us again.”

John’s hope proved futile, shortly another group of them came at the door. This time, John was shooting them too, he and Teyla spraying the area with bullets until they both ran out of ammo. As Teyla was reloading, John fought them off as they came through the door. They weren’t big, they were only slightly taller than John’s knees. They were covered in hair and seemed to be all mouth and razor sharp teeth, their eyes were small, beady and sunken in their heads. 

A familiar and welcome noise arose outside. “That’s P-90 fire!” Nate shouted.

Along with the weapons fire, they suddenly heard a roar. Smiling in relief, John looked over at Nate and together they said, “Mitchell.”

A large furry form tumbled through the doorway, snapping and snarling and wrestling with two brownies. A second followed, and then two more. Nate had never been so relieved to see the allaghi of his cartel. Not just any allaghi, either, but his four most trusted men, the ones that helped keep order among the fernal in the city. Also in other form, Mitchell barrelled through and tore a pair of brownies off the back of one of the wolf kin, smashing the small bodies together and dropping them at his feet and kicking them away. He then turned towards the door and proceeded to tear the heads off a few more. No small feat, since brownies have no necks and it is difficult to know where to rip.

Nate had wondered how the turning was going to affect Mitchell, when John had told him his physical form was still the same when he shifted, he had been curious if he would show any haima traits. He was fast, like a haima, that much was quite certain. One moment he was in the center of the room, in the next he was outside, roaring his head off. His fangs were huge, reaching far past the point those of any other lion kin Nate had ever met extended. Almost like a saber-toothed tiger. The thought made him chuckle as he watched his men fight.

“You are amused?” Arihanna asked, giving him a look that suggested he was nuts. 

“Relieved,” he replied, aiming his P-90 at the floor.

“I have not seen galpen in many years, and there are five of them here now, of two different breeds, such as I have never seen!”

“Three,” Nate said, reaching down to haul Sergeant Lincoln up off the floor as he punched the brownie that had been gnawing on the back of his neck in the face, sending it flying across the room. “Lincoln here is dog kin.” He gave Lincoln’s shoulder a slap and sent him back into the fray. “So is Richards, over there with the white spots. Thomas and Gonzalez are wolf kin.”

“Come on, head for the jumper. They’re crying for reinforcements!” John called through the doorway. When the allaghi didn’t immediately break off the fighting, John gave a sharp whistle to get their attention. “Out! Puddlejumper. Now!”

Nate took Arihanna by the hand and pulled her after him to the door. He followed John and Teyla, smiling as the shape-shifted marines bounded along beside them, tossing aside the occasional brownie that ran at them.

The jumper was cloaked, Private Thomas ran ahead, made a sudden left turn and disappeared, which showed them where it was. Nate ran for it, dragging Arihanna forward when she paused at the ramp, gaping into the jumper. He managed to pull her aside before Mitchell pounded up the ramp after Richards and Gonzalez. 

John had gone directly to the pilot’s seat, calling up the overhead sensor display. “They don’t turn up on sensors. How can they not have a heat signature? Probably phasing in and out. You stupid brownies, pick a reality and stay in it, you little shits!”

“Button up, we’re all here,” Mitchell called as Lincoln finally caught up with them. John raised the ramp and had them airborne before it finished closing all the way. 

“Arihanna, come on forward, let’s see if we can’t find a better place for you to stay,” John called.

She went to the front, and Nate followed. She looked out the viewscreen and clapped her hands. “A flying machine. How delightful.” Nate steered her into the co-pilot’s seat and sat behind her, amused at her reactions to flying this way, instead of on the wing out in the open. “There should be a safe haven at one of the settlements to the south, near the waterfall.” John nodded and banked to turn south.

Back in human form, Mitchell came forward, holding his boots in his hand, his tac vest undone. He gave Nate a quick once over. He rubbed John’s head as he dropped into the seat behind him. “You’re both okay?”

“Fine. Thanks for not waiting for the timer to run down before coming for us,” John said, glancing back over his shoulder and giving Cam a warm smile. There was something in his eyes as he looked at Mitchell that was new, and Nate felt a small pang of jealousy seeing it, seeing the connection between them. 

Mitchell jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I rounded up the Lieutenant’s lieutenants back there as soon as Lorne explained the situation here. I see the lady is still with you.”

“Arihanna, this is Colonel Mitchell,” Nate introduced them.

She smiled and took the hand Cam extended, covered it with her other hand and gave it a squeeze. “Colonel, the same as John is the rank Colonel?”

“Yes. But I’m a bigger Colonel,” Cam whispered to her with a smile. Then he leaned over to tie his boots. 

Telepathically, John gave Cam the quick rundown of what was going on, by the time he was done, Cam was frowning and shaking his head. He looked over at Arihanna with a puzzled look. “Are the cunae that you know of on other worlds as xenophobic as these followers of the Path? Could you possibly find refuge with them, get your people out of here?”

“It has been discussed. But too many refuse to leave their homes, they will not give in to radical ways of thinking and forsake the ancient ways. I could certainly find a place on Reltan or Flis, but I need to remain here to help my people. I cannot abandon them, they look to me for guidance.”

Cam nodded in understanding. He reached into the pocket of his tac vest and took out a notepad and pencil. He drew out the symbols of the Atlantis Gate address. “This is the address of Atlantis. If you need us, or you need a place to stay, press these symbols at the chappa’ai...”

“Ring of the Ancestors,” John corrected. “Your foolish goa’uld words have no meaning here, Mitchell.”

Rolling his eyes, Cam pulled his GDO from a pocket on his vest. He pressed a few buttons, resetting the ID code. He jotted down the code he had entered on the same paper with the Gate address. “Once the Gate engages, press this button, and then this sequence of numbers. Wait until you hear a beeping noise come from it, then you will know it is safe to come through. We have a shield on the Gate to prevent our enemies from coming into the city, it has to be lowered to allow you to pass safely.”

She tried to refuse both the address and the GDO, which made Nate’s heart sink a little. She gently pushed the GDO back at Cam. “I cannot leave my people. I am grateful, but I must remain on Ismenos, I cannot go while there is trouble here.”

Cam pressed it into her hand and wrapped her fingers around the unit. “Even if you never use it, at least you have the option. John extended our protection to you, this is the very least we can do to keep you safe when we leave. It will give us peace of mind to know you have this, should you ever need it.”

After a few moments of consideration, she nodded and slipped the GDO into the pocket of her robe. Far too soon for Nate’s liking, she spotted some landmarks she recognized and pointed through the viewscreen. “There! There is a clearing there.”

They set down and John and Nate followed Arihanna out of the jumper and part of the way across the field before she stopped and turned to them. “Perhaps you should not come with me. It is better if I enter the settlement quietly, and attract as little attention as possible. I have friends here, they will hide me, and help me in my work.”

John nodded. “It has been a pleasure meeting you, Arihanna. Except for the shooting part. And the beheading thing. And the brownies. Well... okay, nevermind. Goodbye. Call us if you need us, you’ve got our number.” John gave a wave and walked back to the jumper. 

“I wish things were simpler,” Nate said, looking into her eyes, memorizing the pattern of the markings on her face, the shape of her lips, for later, when he thought about this. “It makes me very glad to know that not all of my kind are dead. You and your people still exist out here. I have hope now, I had none before.”

She smiled shyly and went up on tiptoe to brush a kiss across his cheek, touching her fingers there briefly before letting her hand fall away. “I wish it could have been different as well, Nate. Perhaps one day you will come across a more welcoming cunae out there in your travels.”

“We’ll probably look up those worlds you mentioned; Reltan and Fris, see how things are there. Maybe we’ll make some friends instead of enemies.”

“I consider you a friend. I wish you a happy life, Nate Stackhouse. Fair skies and warm sun.”

He kissed her forehead. “Fair skies and warm sun, Arihanna.” He stepped back and watched her until she reached the trees. She turned and waved, her cloak a swirl of black around her. And then she was gone, swallowed up by the forest.

Sad for what might have been, Nate turned and went back to the jumper. He patted the arms of his allaghi as he made his way past them. He had his cartel, and he had John and Cam. He wasn’t completely alone. So why did he feel more alone than ever?

**~*~**

By the time John got back to the jumper, all the allaghi were passed out, sleeping off the battle crash. Cam was leaning back in the co-pilot's seat, feet on the control panel, his head back and mouth hanging open as he snored loudly.

Teyla was sitting in the seat behind him and she looked up and met John's eyes when he moved to take the pilot's seat. "They are all quite tired, it seems."

"Yeah, high highs and low lows with allaghi. They'll recharge quickly, they should be up by the time we get back to Atlantis."

"I sense that something has changed between you and Colonel Mitchell, John," she remarked casually. "He touches you frequently, small inconspicuous touches, and you do not pull away, which has me quite curious."

"Does he?"

She nodded and waited. He had rarely been able to keep anything from Teyla, especially since she had learned about his haima nature. She would watch him now and wait until he either talked to her or stormed out, and leaving was not an option. Sneaky Athosian, she'd waited until they were away from the city to indulge her curiosity.

He looked over at Mitchell and smirked. "Caught, I guess. We're sort of together."

A smile spread over her face. "Good. You have been alone too long."

Stackhouse came in and John hit the control for the ramp. He didn't even give the allaghi in the back or Cam a second glance. He took the seat behind John and stared out the front viewscreen. 

"Good to go, Stacks?" John asked. 

He shrugged sloppily. "I guess. Nothing for me here. Let's go home."

**~*~**

John hung his tac vest in his locker and watched Stackhouse do the same and quickly leave the locker room. _*You okay, Nate?*_

 _*No, not at the moment. I'll be fine, I just need some time,*_ he replied, and John felt raw pain along with the words.

_*Let me know if there's anything I can do,*_ John offered. Cam was watching him, he hadn't yet figured out how to jump in on mental conversations, but it was only a matter of time, John was sure. 

_*Yeah. Okay, thanks. I need to be alone.*_ And with that, John felt the slam of a mental door as Nate blocked him out. He decided he didn't like this feeling, as if Nate were suddenly gone from him, after years of his constant, comforting presence. 

Mitchell tossed a pair of sweats and t-shirt over his shoulder and closed his locker. _*Come on. Let's shower at your place.*_

He nodded and followed Mitchell, his thoughts on Nate and the chimarie-drakon, and Arihanna and the enormous burden she had on her shoulders. Cameron seemed to sense he also needed some quiet time, he was silent until they got into the transporter. 

"Hey, I changed my mind, I think I just want to shower and then hit the sack," Mitchell said around a yawn as John moved to press the destination on the screen. He reached past John and chose the transporter near his quarters instead of John's. 

"Oh, okay," John shrugged. If Mitchell didn't want to shower together, that was fine. They didn't have to spend every minute of every day together.

When the door opened, Cameron stepped out. Then he looked back at John when he didn't follow. "Aren't you coming?"

"I thought..."

"I didn't say alone, dumbass, come on."

For some stupid reason, that cheered John up. He followed after Mitchell and when they were inside his quarters, he tapped him on the shoulder and leaned in to kiss him softly on the lips. 

Cam nudged him towards the bathroom. They showered together, the extent of touching being the scrubbing of backs and Cam washing John's hair, which made John practically melt into a puddle at his feet. Cam had to lead him out of the shower and dry him off. Then he pushed him to the bed and flopped down beside him. Rolling onto his side, Cam pulled John up against him and held him like a teddy bear.

John sighed contentedly. This, he could get used to. He was relieved, he had been concerned that all he and Mitchell had between them was crazy, mad lust. 

"More than that, John. It's more than that," Cam whispered and kissed the back of his neck. A minute later he was snoring, his breath warm on John's skin.

**~*~**

Nate appeared in John's doorway, his hair damp from his post mission shower. "Colonel."

"Lieutenant, come on in. How did the mission go?" John gestured towards the chair in front of his desk. Colonel Caldwell and a few of his people were milling about in Command, the _Daedalus_ being in orbit over Lantea for the quarterly supply run. 

_*Nothing. Again. These Pegasus drakon are as adept at hiding as my kin back on Earth. If we find, them, it will be by accident, I'm sure.*_ He slumped slightly in the chair, disappointed yet again that he had been unable to connect with any of his kind. 

The worst blow to Stackhouse's hopes had come two months earlier, when he had convinced Mitchell to let him check on Arihanna and her people, they had attempted, repeatedly, to dial Ismenos and failed to make a connection. It seemed that even if she wanted to, Arihanna could not dial Atlantis for assistance. The followers of the Path of Reason had, in typical extremist fashion, acted drastically and either buried or destroyed their Stargate. Nate had been rather morose ever since.

"I liked her," Nate said quietly, staring at the ceiling. "She was complex."

"I liked her too. I'm sorry it didn't work out, truly sorry."

Nate nodded. "I mean, it wasn't like I knew her that well, right? Love at first sight doesn't exist, it's a fairy tale. You can't build a life on a fairy tale."

"We need to go out drinking. Ronon mentioned a bar on Chairmos, we should do that. We'll let Caldwell be in charge for the day and we'll go take some leave time and drown your sorrows."

"Okay," Nate agreed.

**~*~**

"Caldwell and the _Daedalus_ are gone!" Cam announced, coming into John's office and grinning broadly. "We don't have to mind our P's and Q's quite so much anymore."

John had already locked the door and darkened the windows. He crooked a finger at Mitchell. Cam circled the desk and straddled John's legs on the chair, resting his back against the edge of the desk. "I missed you."

"You just saw me this morning when I got out of bed. Your bed, remember?"

"Yeah. But I kind of like being able to get up from my desk and come in here and not have to worry about looking over my shoulder to see if Caldwell is paying attention."

John had Cam's top button undone and had slid his hand down into his trousers, rubbing his fingertips against the skin he could reach. "Mmm, keep doing that," Cam said huskily and reached down to undo the rest of his fly to give John better access. He then wrapped his arms around John's shoulders and leaned down to kiss him passionately as John stroked him. 

When Cam moved to slide off John's lap, he wrapped his left arm around Cam's hips and pulled him closer, holding him there. "Uh uh. I want you to come like this, just from me doing this," John whispered, twisting his wrist and making Cam gasp. 

"Johnnn," Cam complained, thrusting his hips forward. He had his elbows on John's shoulders, his hands clasped together behind John's head as he moved in his lap. "That's it, come for me, Cameron."

He let out a shuddering moan as he spilled over John's hand. When he opened his eyes and looked down, John was grinning at him. "I love that face you make when you're trying not to come."

"It's that squeeze and twist thing you do, drives me over the edge," Cam admitted, stroking his hands down John's cheeks and leaning in to nip at his lips and kiss him. "You want me to..."

"Unfortunately, there's no time. I have McKay and Zelenka bringing a proposal up to the conference room in ten minutes." John kissed him quickly and tucked his cock back into his pants, wiping his hand on a towel that he had pulled from his desk drawer. 

Cam reluctantly slid off him and stood. "I'm looking forward to movie night tonight."

"Are you?" 

"Yeah, I'm planning on molesting my boyfriend in the dark."

John gave him a scandalized look. "In public, Mister Mitchell?"

"Actually, I was hoping to have movie night in, naked on the sofa. If I can persuade him."

"Depends what's playing."

Cam paused at the door. "King Kong."

"Oh, definitely then. Not going to miss anything, I know that one, I'll see you later."

**~*~**

A few hours later Cam was bent over the arm of the sofa as John gripped his hips, pumping in and out of him, the movie long ago forgotten on the screen. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his folded arms, gasping occasionally as John hit a sensitive spot.

"Harder, John," he begged, groaning John's name. 

John gave a wicked chuckle and maintained his pace. "Nope. Long and slow, I've got all night." He ran his hands over Cam's ass and down his thighs.

"Bastard."

I response to that, John reached around and grasped Cam's cock and began to stroke him in time with his thrusts. Slowly. Torturing Cam as he deliberately drew out the pleasure. 

By the time John finally began to thrust more quickly, nearing his peak, Cam was sobbing mindless under him, having come once already at John's hand, he was shuddering on the edge of a second climax, completely and totally at John's mercy.

Which was just fine with him. He had already started threatening John with what he was going to do to him the next time. "Handcuffs," he panted as John yanked on his cock. "Gonna tie you to the bed."

"Mmm, hmmm. Promises, promises, Kitty. Now, come for me again. I want to hear you."

 

 

**Epilogue**

John happened to be standing beside Chuck's station, sipping at his cup of coffee when the first chevron lit up. "Whose offworld?" He asked.

"No one sir," Chuck replied. 

John set his coffee down on the edge of the console and walked over to the railing of the balcony overlooking the Gate Room. When the last chevron locked, John looked to Chuck. "IDC?"

"One of Colonel Mitchell's trader IDs, sir."

"Let 'em in." John gestured to the guards below to take up position, just in case this was trouble. 

John counted fifteen people, clad in robes of various colors came through the Gate. They all did the usual stop and stare at the architecture that most Pegasus natives did the first time they entered the city. Sensing no malice, John had started for the stairs. He stopped and smiled as he sensed a familiar presence. 

_*Nate, get your ass to the Gate Room,*_ John commanded. _*On the double.*_

One of the people came forward and pushed back the hood of her robe. "Colonel Sheppard, it is good to see you once again. Fair skies and warm sun, my friend."

John jogged the rest of the way down, unable to contain his own smile and he went forward and clasped her hands. "Welcome to Atlantis, Arihanna. Fair skies and warm sun to you as well."

She squeezed his hands as she looked around. "This city is impressive, as the stories said. I hope that the invitation is still open, that we are not infringing on your hospitality." She held up the GDO Cam had given her. 

"You are most welcome."

Stackhouse came running from the corridor and skidded to a halt as he saw Arihanna speaking with John. She turned to smile at him hopefully as he approached at a more sedate pace. "Arihanna. Warm skies and fair sun," he said, unable to stop smiling at her. 

"We couldn't dial Ismenos." John looked from face to face of the others as some pushed their hood back. There were only two men, the rest were women. All wore markings similar to Arihanna's. 

"Then they did as they threatened to do. The arept is truly cut off from all outsiders now," one of the women said.

"Do you still have people there?" Cam asked as he came down the stairs to stand beside John.

Arihanna was staring up into Nate's face, seemingly unaware of everyone around her. The woman beside her rolled her eyes and stepped forward. There were streaks of white in her dark hair. "I am Zeta. We thank you for allowing us to come here. The rest of our people have settled with cunae on several other worlds."

"You left the arept?" Nate asked, reaching a hand up to stroke his knuckles over Arihanna's cheek.

Zeta explained, "The followers of the Path burned our settlements, they attacked all in one night to drive us out or kill us. Most of our people were allowed to flee through the Ring. When Arihanna told us of Atlantis and your people, we few decided to accompany her."

"We wish to learn of other people. The followers of the Path closed us off to learning, to the richness of other cultures. May we begin our studies here, Colonel Sheppard?" One of the men had stepped forward and addressed John directly. 

"We would be happy to have you," John replied, not quite certain what in the hell they were going to do with a small herd of drakon.

Zeta walked over and went up on her toes to whisper, "We understand that our natures are to be kept confidential. We shall respect the privacy of others."

That was a load of his mind. And John saw Cam relax beside him. "I'm certain that we can find some guest quarters for you, until we can make a more permanent arrangement. While we get that set up, perhaps we could offer you refreshments, a short walk around some of the city?"

There were nods all around. Arihanna and her people had come with little more than the clothes on their backs. A few had a bag or bundle, but most were empty handed. Lorne had turned up to help with showing the drakon to the mess hall, undoubtedly to offer them tea or coffee and a bite to eat. 

_*What are we going to do with them?*_ Cam asked.

Stackhouse laughed aloud. _*I think they are asking themselves the same thing. They seem to have expected to be turned away, from what Arihanna is telling me.*_ He had a hand pressed to the small of Arihanna's back as he walked along beside her, escorting her to the mess hall. 

_*Well, see if you can figure out if they mean to stay permanently or if we're just a stop on the grand tour,*_ Cam told him. 

_*Will do. Hey guys, doesn't Arihanna have the most beautiful eyes?*_

John pointed a warning finger at Cam's nose. "Don't you laugh. Do not tease him. He's been blocking me out for months, and he’s finally talking to us again."

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

John harrumphed and watched Stackhouse and Arihanna leave the Gate Room. Then he snorted and hid a smile behind his hand. 

"What?" Cam asked, poking him in the shoulder as he followed him up the stairs. "C'mon, what?"

"Random thought. It's stupid, never mind."

Cam poked him again. "Tell me."

"Here there be dragons."

 

The End


End file.
